


'Tis the Season

by Caledonia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 2020 advent fics, Boss/Employee Relationship, Canon Era, Check Chapter Notes, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Merlin has magic, Snowed In, Strangers to Lovers, advent calendar prompts, each chapter is a mini fic, tags added as needed, they were flatmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 23,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caledonia/pseuds/Caledonia
Summary: A month full of miniature Merthur ficlets - each chapter is a stand-alone mini fic. Happy December!
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 301
Kudos: 229





	1. Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

> I am not working from a set list of prompts, I'm making it up as I go along. Fun but also terrifying, just like real life. I hope you still enjoy these little snippets! xx Cally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin & Arthur have friends coming over and Arthur has qualms about the film they've chosen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU  
> Established relationship  
> Merlin has magic

“What film are we watching?” Merlin asked. Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head, looking for all the world like he’d just lost something important to him. Merlin knew immediately which film had been chosen. “Frozen?”

“Frozen,” Arthur confirmed, with another theatrical shake of the head., “AGAIN. Apparently, as it is the first of December, we must watch a film that has  _ snow _ .”

“It isn’t a  _ bad _ film,” Merlin said, the skin of his forearm brushing Arthur’s hair as Merlin reached around him to get the microwave popcorn from the cupboard.

“Listen,” Arthur said, turning to face Merlin and gently grabbing his wrist, taking the box of popcorn off him and setting it onto the counter, “I like the film! Hell, I’m guilty of singing ‘Let It Go’ in the shower from time to time myself, but-”

“I know,” Merlin smirked, letting Arthur pull him closer, Arthur’s hands now on Merlin’s waist, his fingers warm against Merlin’s skin.

“BUT,” Arthur continued as though he had not been interrupted, “I guess I just don’t see why everyone is so obsessed.”

Arthur leaned in, putting his lips against Merlin’s neck almost absentmindedly - it was the sort of physical affection which Arthur had been so shy with when they’d first gotten together, but which he’d quickly become habituated to, much to Merlin’s pleasure.

“You’re just not impressed because I have more magic than Elsa,” Merlin said, prising himself away and standing on tiptoes to reach down their biggest bowl. Arthur frowned, his chin wrinkling adorably, as though he had never considered this explanation before.

“You know, you may be right,” Arthur conceded, still frowning. Merlin put the popcorn into the microwave and hit Start, then returned to the familiar circle of Arthur’s strong arms.

“I’m always right,” Merlin joked, kissing Arthur quickly and winking, before pulling away again to get out the wine glasses. The buzzer rang, announcing the fact that their friends had arrived at the door to the building. Merlin set the glasses down and went to let them in, but Arthur stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“Arthur, it’s raining out,” Merlin protested, trying to pull his hand away. 

“Please? Quickly, before they get here,” Arthur’s eyes were intensely blue, his lips quirked into a smile.

“Fine, but I’m buzzing them up first,” Merlin said, pressing the button that would admit their friends into the lobby of the building five floors below. Then he turned back to Arthur, who was watching him with wide eyes. 

Merlin waved his hands, mimicking the gesture Elsa made in the film, and between himself and Arthur a miniature blizzard erupted, snow dusting down from the ceiling and powdering on the tiles of the kitchen floor. Arthur’s face glowed with joy and awe, and Merlin’s heart threatened to burst within his chest.

“My own personal flurry,” Arthur said, not at all mocking, and reached out his palm to catch some snow. A single, large flake fell onto Arthur’s hand and was, for a moment, picked out against his skin in all of its incredible glory.

Merlin shook his head fondly and left Arthur awestruck while he rescued the popcorn before it could burn and tore the bag open above the bowl. As Merlin got the wine out of the fridge he heard the ding of the lift arriving on their floor and, without even looking, he vanished every last trace of the snow.

Arthur appeared behind him, hands greedy and hot, turning Merlin around until their faces were almost touching.

“Arthur, they-” Merlin started, interrupted by Arthur’s lips on his, almost reverential. They kissed, all thoughts of friends and films and snowflakes forgotten for a few wonderful moments, until the knocking on the door began and Arthur pulled away.

“I love you, you know,” Arthur said, his eyes locked on Merlin’s.

“I know, and I love you, too, but our friends have arrived,” Merlin said, smiling.

“Quit making out and come let us in!” Gwaine called from the corridor. Arthur laughed and stepped back, rolling his eyes again as he went to open the door.

“The cold never bothered me anyway,” Merlin sang under his breath as he carried the wine through to the living room, smiling broadly.


	2. Fake Dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur tries to convince his sister that he and Merlin are actually, really dating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU  
> Flatmates

“Morgana, I’m telling you, Merlin and I are  _ actually _ together now,” Arthur said, brandishing his and Merlin’s clasped hands. Morgana shook her head and rolled her eyes at Arthur in the rearview mirror.

“I’m not buying it,” Morgana said, taking a turn at speed and crushing Merlin and Arthur together in the back seat, “I didn’t buy it last year, and I’m not buying it now.”

“Yes, but last year we were faking. This year, we’re not,” Arthur tried to explain again, but it was clear that Morgana wasn’t prepared to listen to him at all.

It was true that Arthur had brought Merlin with him to the previous year’s mandatory Christmas Family Dinner, and it was true that the two of them had pretended to be a couple. The entire evening had been awkward and, in the end, a complete disaster.

Merlin had flinched every time Arthur tried to take his hand. He’d blushed scarlet any time Arthur embellished a true story to make it seem like they were a couple and not, in fact, simply flatmates and friends. In the end, Merlin had begged Arthur to let them leave early, and Arthur had acquiesced.

The months following the debacle had been difficult, to say the least. Merlin and Arthur interacted only when absolutely necessary, and even then it was incredibly uncomfortable.

Unable to stand the tension any longer, Arthur had broken down in mid-July and demanded that Merlin give an explanation for the awkwardness. At which point Merlin confessed that he had feelings for Arthur, something that was exacerbated by their fake dating over the previous Christmas season.

Arthur had, at first, been completely shocked. Merlin was far, far too good for Arthur, and Arthur had always thought Merlin knew that. In the end, however, Merlin and Arthur had decided to give dating a go. For real. And Arthur’s life had improved a million times over.

Arthur had, of course, explained the details to Morgana on more than one occasion, but she was being stubborn.

“Morgana, it’s true, we really are dating,” Merlin said, “I know last year we were pretending, but I promise you, this year we’re not.”

“What I don’t understand, little brother, is why you can’t simply admit that you’re single? Why the ruse? I’m single, and I’m here by myself.”

“That’s because father is too frightened of you to ever set you up with any of his colleagues’ children!” Arthur said, in a raised voice because this was the twentieth time he’d mentioned it.

“Oh, he knows better than that!” Morgana growled, accelerating around a corner and making Arthur squeeze his eyes tight shut. Beside him, Merlin gave an involuntary squeak of terror and Arthur put a soothing hand on his knee. Arthur was more used to Morgana’s driving than Merlin, and he was still horrified. Thankfully, they were nearly there.

“Exactly! You don’t have to go on any dates with vapid, brainless, gold-digging creeps like I do!”

“I hope he’s paying you, at least, Merlin,” Morgana said and it was Merlin’s turn to squeeze Arthur’s hand. Arthur looked over to see Merlin smoldering at him from under half-lowered eyelids and his heart rate shot up.

The previous year Arthur had paid for Merlin’s fake dating services by arranging for a regular cleaning service for their flat. This year Merlin’s reward for having to spend an evening with Arthur’s horrible family was going to be much, much more personal. And physical. And carnal. Arthur cracked the window and let in the cold evening air.

“Is there anything at all that we can do or say to make you believe us, Morgana?” Merlin asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“To be honest, I’m not even sure I’d believe it if I walked in on you shagging,” Morgana said, turning into their father’s driveway.

Arthur looked out the window towards his family’s manor and the large number of completely empty bedrooms it provided, then he looked back at Merlin and winked.

“Well, maybe we can make that happen.”

Morgana laughed as she parked the car, grabbing her coat and presents from the passenger seat. Merlin leaned over and kissed Arthur once, promisingly, then they steeled themselves and got out of the car, too.

It was going to be a very pleasant evening indeed.


	3. Secret Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets assigned Merlin as a secret Santa giftee. It does not pan out how he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moswrn AU  
> Arthur is Merlin's boss.  
> Merlin is a little bit forward.

**E-Mail from apendragon to memrys**

**Subject: Secret Santa**

Mister Emrys,

I was given your name for the company’s Secret Santa. Please tell my assistant what you would like and she will arrange it for you. Remember, the maximum budget is £20.

Kind regards

Arthur Pendragon

  
CFO Pendragon Industries

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: RE: Secret Santa**

Mister Pendragon,

Thank you for your message. You are aware that the “Secret” part of “Secret Santa” means that I’m not meant to know who bought my gift, yeah? Just pick something you think I would like, and I’ll pretend I don’t know who it’s from. Sound good?

Happy holidays,

Merlin Emrys

IT Helpdesk

* * *

**E-Mail from apendragon to memrys**

**Subject: RE: RE: Secret Santa**

Mister Emrys,

I am well aware of what the word “secret” means, and of the particular meaning here, as well. However, considering our only acquaintance with each other is the occasional shared elevator experience, I thought it would be kinder if you choose your own gift rather than having me get you something you will not enjoy.

Please tell me what you want, or, if you prefer, contact my assistant directly. 

Sincerely,

Arthur Pendragon

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: RE: RE: RE: Secret Santa**

Mister Pendragon,

There are other ways to discover what I might like and still keep your anonymity. Just saying.

Happy holidays!

Merlin

* * *

**E-Mail from apendragon to memrys**

**Subject: Just Choose A Gift I Am Begging You**

Emrys,

I barely have time for these infernal e-mails, I certainly do not have time to secretly find out what kind of a person you are and what you like. Just tell me what you want. It isn’t that difficult, surely.

Regards,

Arthur

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: RE: Just Choose A Gift I Am Begging You**

A,

Here are some suggestions:

  * You could stop by my cubicle and see if there’s anything obvious
  * You could ask my friends what I like
  * You could actually speak to me in the lifts - find out about me
  * We could go for lunch or for a coffee
  * You could invite me to one of your fancy soirees



Take your pick! 

M

* * *

**E-Mail from apendragon to memrys**

**Subject: Are you serious?**

First of all, few of those options would maintain my anonymity.

Furthermore,

  * I can’t be seen mingling with the commoners
  * I wasn’t aware that you had friends
  * See the first point
  * If I bought you lunch or a coffee as well it would exceed the £20 limit
  * Did you honestly just use the word soiree?



Tell me what you want me to get you or I will not be responsible for my actions.

A. Pendragon

P.S. Would it do me any good to remind you that I am, technically, your boss?

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: I am very serious**

Arthur,

Because I am a better person than you, I am choosing to not be insulted by your very insulting e-mail. Now, while my suggestions might not preserve your anonymity entirely, surely you can “mingle with the commoners” without it being known that you’re trying to buy me a gift. Try it some time. Us commoners are pretty great, actually.

Merlin

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: Also**

A-

I find the idea of you pulling rank in a postscript indescribably attractive. 

M

* * *

**E-Mail from apendragon to memrys**

**Subject: ????**

Is this...

Are you _flirting_ with me?

Via e-mail?

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: He Can Be Taught!!**

Lunch at 1? Cafe on the corner? You can get to know me better, and if we have time we might even talk about the Secret Santa situation.

See you soon,

Mx

* * *

**E-Mail from apendragon to memrys**

**Subject: Lunch**

Merlin,

Thank you for lunch. It was unexpected and very ... _informative_.

Although I do believe we may have gotten re-dressed in a hurry as I am actually wearing your tie. My assistant complimented the pattern of humorous festive reindeer. 

Arthur

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: Dinner**

Take me to dinner and I’ll give you your tie back.

Mx

* * *

**E-Mail from apendragon to memrys**

**Subject: RE: Dinner**

Dinner sounds good. You can keep the tie, it suits you.

A

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: Ties**

I want my reindeer back, though.

Mx

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: RE: Ties**

Oh! I just thought of what you can get me for Secret Santa. Another tie just like this one.

Mx

* * *

**E-Mail from apendragon to memrys**

**Subject: RE: RE: Ties**

You are unbelievable. 

I’ve made reservations for dinner. I hope the fanciness of the restaurant does not put you off a repeat of our storage closet performance earlier today. 

A

* * *

**E-mail from memrys to apendragon**

**Subject: Ohhh!**

Challenge accepted.

Mx


	4. Snowed In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being snowed in with his best friend makes Merlin think about things he'd rather not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU  
> Flatmates  
> Idiots to Lovers

Merlin wrapped the blanket more snugly around himself and burrowed into the corner of the sofa. Outside the snow was still falling and drifts had piled up against the windows. The cottage was decorated lavishly for Christmas, which was still weeks away. Merlin had lit a blazing fire, and his best friend had made hot chocolate. It was beautiful and romantic and totally wasted on him. Merlin took a deep breath. He was warm, cosy, and in the company of one of his favourite people in the world. All in all, he couldn't ask much more out of being effectively snowed in during an unfortunately timed work retreat. 

Except. Of course, there was something missing. Something that Merlin didn't want to examine too closely because every time his thoughts got near that revelation a big, black hole opened inside him. Something _was_ missing, yes, but Merlin had gotten along without it so far and he wasn't doing too badly. 

Merlin looked around at the gloriously snowy landscape outside, at the profile of his best friend's face lit handsomely by firelight. Merlin was safe, healthy, mostly happy, and well-loved by a gaggle of wonderful friends. He was fine. He didn't need romantic love to be completely happy, after all. 

But still.

Merlin looked at his friend again, smiling sort of sadly. 

"What about Elf next?" He said, turning towards Merlin, his eyes glowing. 

"Sure," Merlin shrugged, extricating himself from the sofa, "I'm hungry, want anything?"

"Crisps?"

"I'll see if I can find some."

Merlin walked to the kitchenette, hugging his arms against the cold. He dug about in the cupboards for crisps and grabbed a packet of biscuits, too. Then he put the kettle on and got out two mugs and tea bags. The domestic action made Merlin think of Arthur, and he looked back towards the living room, sighing.

Merlin had been trying to stop himself from thinking about Arthur in a romantic way for years, now, but that was hopeless because Merlin was in love with Arthur. They’d been friends since University and now lived together in, to Merlin, a depressingly platonic way. But Arthur was far too good looking to be interested in Merlin, so Merlin was content to be discontented, and silently in love with his flatmate.

Trying to distract himself, Merlin took out his phone and opened up his Instagram account. He’d posted a picture a few hours ago - _Stuck in the snow with this nutter, he’s lucky we’re best friends! #snowedin #sendhelp #workretreatgonewrong #reallifefanficplot #jklol_ \- Both of their smiling faces beaming at the camera, snow in the background.

Merlin read the replies and chuckled, then put his phone back in his pocket and finished making the tea. It was as he was putting the milk back into the tiny fridge that he heard it. Above the noise of Elf beginning in the other room, and above the howl of the wind, there was now a deep, rumbling noise. Merlin looked out the window and saw a large, dark shape making its way up the snowy drive. 

Could it be the owner of the cottage coming to check on them? They were very isolated at the bottom of a field by a river, maybe the owner was worried they didn’t have heat or water. But, surely he could have just phoned? He had Merlin’s phone number.

Merlin squinted out of the window but he couldn’t make out who was driving the vehicle. There was a large snowplough mounted on the front, clearing the path and, now that Merlin looked more closely, there were two people in the cab. 

“Who is that?”

“No idea,” Merlin turned around, “We’re in our pyjamas.”

“So? It’s not going to be the queen.”

“Fair enough,” Merlin replied, settling back onto the sofa with the cups of tea. Whoever their visitor was, they were unannounced, and they weren’t going to ruin Merlin’s cosy day.

A few minutes later the drone outside was louder than the telly, so they gave up on Elf and, annoyed and curious, they went to see who the surprise visitors were. Expecting a knock on the door, Merlin was startled when the door flew open and a tall, broad man walked in, wrapped up from head to toe in winter gear and covered in snow. The only part of the face that was visible was the eyes.

And they were familiar eyes. Very familiar.

“Arthur?”

“Merlin!” Arthur said, pulling off his woolly hat and showering the entryway with damp snow. Merlin looked over his shoulder at Gwaine standing in the living room doorway holding his cup of tea. He seemed similarly surprised. Merlin looked back to Arthur.

“What are you doing here?” 

“What do you mean _he’s_ your best friend?” Arthur said, gesturing at Gwaine, “I thought _I_ was your best friend?”

“Did you come all this way in a blizzard to talk about semantics?” Merlin asked, worrying that something else was wrong. Why would Arthur have travelled for hours? In this terrible weather? Merlin was flabbergasted.

“What exactly is going on here?” Arthur demanded. Merlin looked back at Gwaine again, then to Arthur, having no idea how to answer Arthur’s question.

“He wants to know if we’re shagging,” Gwaine said, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“Why would Arthur want to know if we’re shagging?”

“You can’t tag something ‘real-life fanfic plot’ and not raise suspicions, Merlin!” Arthur shouted.

“How do you even know what fan fiction is?” Merlin asked Arthur, incredulous. Behind him, Gwaine had started laughing. “I have no idea what is happening here!”

“Arthur thought you were being serious, that you were glad to be snowed in with me so that we would, through a series of humorous shenanigans, fall into bed together. Like in fan fiction.”

“How do _you_ know what fan fiction is?” Arthur asked of Gwaine, and it sounded like he was truly angry.

“Hold on a minute here,” Merlin said, raising his voice, “Even if we were out here in the snow, shagging, which we _aren’t_ , why would you care?”

“Because I-” Arthur started then, looking at Merlin with his blue eyes huge in his pale face, seemed unable to continue.

“Because he’s _jealous_ , Merlin,” Gwaine supplied, his voice flat and emotionless.

“Jealous?”

Gwaine looked back and forth between the two of them for a few long seconds, rolled his eyes dramatically, and went back into the living room and turned the volume up on the television. Merlin’s heart rate had skyrocketed.

“I think you’d better explain yourself,” Merlin turned to Arthur with his hands on his hips. Arthur, looking for all the world as though he had returned from an Arctic trek, twiddled his woolly hat in his hands, clearly nervous. He didn’t look like he was planning on speaking at all, and Merlin started to turn away, confused and wounded, worried that Arthur was playing some sort of cruel trick on him. 

“Wait! Wait, please. Just, give me a minute. I haven’t been thinking straight and I need to collect my thoughts.”

Merlin turned back, staring at Arthur as he continued to twiddle his hat. Then, without warning, Arthur tossed his hat aside and threw himself at Merlin. Their lips met and Arthur sunk his hand into the untidy hair at the back of Merlin’s head, pulling Merlin’s body against his own with his other hand placed gently at Merlin’s back. 

Merlin was shocked, his eyes wide, trying to pull his head back. Then, he realised that Arthur was kissing him. ARTHUR was kissing him, so Merlin decided to bugger the reasons why, for the time being, and just kiss him back. Merlin closed his eyes and opened his mouth slightly against Arthur’s lips which were still cool from the winter weather. Arthur responded with a small moan as he dipped his knees, his hand fisting in Merlin’s hair, and then they were kissing properly.

What could have been a minute or an hour later, the farmer whose cottage he and Gwaine were renting appeared at the door behind Merlin and cleared his throat gruffly.

“I’m needing to head back now, son,” he said, averting his eyes, “It’s getting bad again.”

“Oh, er-” Arthur said, his cheeks burning. He’d clasped Merlin’s hand and seemed unwilling to let go.

“You can take me back,” Gwaine said, appearing in the entryway. He’d dressed and was wearing his heavy winter coat. Merlin stared at him, but Arthur dug in his coat pocket and tossed Gwaine his keys.

“I’m parked in the village. Don’t wreck my car.”

“What? Wait-” Merlin started, once again having no idea what was going on.

“See you at work, Merls!” Gwaine said, following the farmer out of the door and shutting it behind him. The cottage rang with silence until the vehicle outside began to rumble and drive away. 

“Where were we?” Arthur asked, turning back to Merlin with a smooth, promising smile.

“Snowed in,” Merlin answered, feeling utterly bewildered.

Arthur stepped forward to kiss Merlin again, but Merlin pushed him away.

“As much as I’d like to pick up where we left off,” Merlin said, holding his hand up to Arthur, “I need you to tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I’m in love with you,” Arthur blurted, then looked as though he might like to evaporate on the spot.

“And?”

“When I thought you were out here having sex with Gwaine I couldn’t stand it! I had to come and stop you and tell you how I feel. I don’t want you to be having sex with anyone else!”

“And two grown men are incapable of sharing a cottage in a snowstorm without becoming intimate?”

“You commented that he was your best friend,” Arthur said, sounding sad and wounded.

Merlin looked at him for a moment and decided that they’d have plenty of time to talk about exactly what had happened. Right now, all Merlin wanted to do was to stop Arthur from frowning like that. So he stepped forward and pulled Arthur close, drawing him in for a long, lazy kiss.

“It turns out,” Merlin said, as they stopped to catch their breath, “that you and I are both complete idiots.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Arthur said, following Merlin into the living room and down onto the sofa.


	5. All Wrapped Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur helps Merlin dress for winter weather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Established relationship

“Arthur, stop, I can do this myself,” Merlin protested half-heartedly, but Arthur didn’t stop. He wrapped the knitted scarf slowly and carefully around Merlin’s long, slender neck, watching Merlin’s pale skin vanish inch by inch, Arthur's fingers brushing gently against the soft hair at the back of Merlin’s head, then he tucked both ends under the lapels of Merlin’s navy peacoat. Merlin smiled at Arthur, his blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes, and Arthur leaned in and kissed him gently on the tip of his elegant nose.

Merlin sighed in a long-suffering way and shook his head fondly.

“Gloves next,” Arthur said, quietly, and Merlin obligingly held up one of his hands. The skin at Merlin’s wrists was translucent, blue veins showing beneath flawless skin. Arthur wanted to press his mouth against that wrist, run his tongue over the veins, feel the almost creamy texture of Merlin’s skin against his lips.

Distracted, Arthur fumbled the glove and Merlin chuckled, low and rumbling. Arthur glared warmly then grabbed Merlin’s hand in his and started sliding on the heavy wool glove. He tried not to notice the shape and curve of Merlin’s fingers as he did so, but it was pointless. Merlin had beautiful hands, and Arthur loved them. Loved the feel of them on his body and the taste of them against his lips.

“Am I ready now, you clotpole?” Merlin asked and Arthur gave him the once-over. Heavy wool coat, fleece-lined hat, thick hand-knitted gloves and a long, cumbersome scarf. Merlin had burrowed down so all that could be seen were his eyes.

“All wrapped up,” Arthur confirmed, smiling, “let’s go.”

They opened the door and a blast of winter wind blew snow into the corridor. They took a few steps only to discover that walking into the wind was difficult and exhausting. Their car was halfway down the street and on the other side of the road, which seemed like miles. Gwen and Lance’s flat was a twenty-minute drive across the city, and the weather was only going to get worse as the night went on.

Arthur and Merlin’s eyes met and, together, they backed into their house and shut the door again. Arthur pulled off one of his gloves and sent Gwen a quick text message cancelling their plans. Then he turned to Merlin, his eyes burning with desire, and slowly, very slowly began to unwrap him.


	6. Fireplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet moment between Arthur & Merlin as Merlin lights a fire in the fireplace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> canon au  
> anachronisms galore  
> first kiss

“The fire’s gone out,” Arthur grumbled, disappearing behind the changing screen and undressing, flinging his sodden cloak over the back of a chair. Merlin shook his head, he was likewise soaked through and freezing, but neither of them would warm until the fire was blazing, so he stooped beside the hearth and extracted his steel and flint from his pocket.

Before Merlin had a chance to do more than build a nest of tinder, Arthur had reappeared. Merlin loved Arthur like this, red-faced from travel and the cold, eyes burning brightly blue. His smile was endearingly crooked, and his dark golden hair was a damp tangle atop his head. As always, Merlin longed to take Arthur into his arms and kiss him as though he had any right to do such things. However, he and his prince were alone, at least, and Arthur was his for the night, even if it wasn’t exactly in the way that Merlin wanted.

The preparations for the midwinter feast were finalised and Arthur had nothing at all to do tonight but relax. Often Arthur would send Merlin away on such evenings, but tonight he’d requested that Merlin stay. They would likely play a game or two of cards, and neither of them would speak much, but they would be together. Which was enough, really.

Merlin set about laying the fire and Arthur stood behind him, watching. As Merlin worked he could feel himself beginning to flush because of the intensity of Arthur’s gaze, but he carried on. There was nothing unusual about that at all.

But Arthur suddenly knelt beside Merlin, their shoulders almost touching, and Merlin was aware of the heat of him and the smell; road dust, hard work, and Arthur. Merlin swallowed, his heart beating far too fast.

“Did you need something?” 

“No,” Arthur said, shaking his head, but he was concentrating on Merlin’s actions as though he was a student being taught. Merlin slowed and continued with his task in a precise manner, letting Arthur watch. There was something almost sensual about the moment, though Merlin knew that was only wishful thinking.

Arthur had never been good at lighting a fire, and he was simply trying to learn without having to ask. That was all. Silently, feeling a rush of heat where their bodies touched, Merlin handed the flint and steel to Arthur and gestured at the small pile of tinder he’d amassed.

Without speaking Arthur took them and attempted to strike a spark. The curl of his fingers on the steel was unexpected in its gentleness and uncertainty. Merlin often wondered whether he was the only person in the entire world who was allowed to see Arthur uncertain. 

After a few attempts, it was clear that Arthur was not going to succeed, and he tensed, clearly embarrassed.

“Here,” Merlin said, using his own hands to guide Arthur’s actions, their fingers tangling, Arthur’s skin dry and rough against Merlin’s own which was smooth and soft in comparison. Merlin’s breath struggled to escape his chest, the cage of his ribs feeling impossibly tight. It was just the two of them, their bodies too close together, the clouds of their breath mingling in the cold air, no distraction. 

“Like this,” Merlin demonstrated again, the sparks flying. Arthur shook Merlin’s hands off gently and took control again, concentrating with the tip of his tongue between his teeth. The spark caught on the third strike, and Arthur’s face lit up brighter than any fire.

Merlin pushed him unceremoniously aside and transferred the smouldering tinder beneath the pile of small twigs he’d arranged in the hearth. Within minutes, with Arthur’s eyes still on him, Merlin had grown Arthur’s small spark into a crackling fire.

“We’ll be warm in no time,” Merlin smiled, looking up to catch Arthur’s eyes on him in that way he had of looking  _ through _ Merlin straight to his soul. Merlin swallowed and stood, struggling again to catch his breath. 

There was a smudge of soot on Arthur’s right cheek and, reaching forward as though bidden by unseen forces, Merlin wiped it away with the flat of his thumb. In a moment of time that lay frozen between them, Arthur’s face turned against the palm of Merlin’s hand, his nose brushing against the skin of Merlin’s wrist. Merlin heard Arthur’s sharp intake of breath, and the moment stretched taut between them, threatening to snap.

Arthur’s hand came up and held Merlin’s, his fingers gripping as uncertainly as they had held the steel earlier, and Merlin felt as though he might burst with happiness. Beside them, the heat of the fire grew more intense, and Arthur took a step forward. 

For all of Arthur’s bravado he was really a shy, fragile creature, Merlin knew. Deciding, not for the first time, to be the braver between them, Merlin stepped forward and touched his lips to Arthur’s. It was at once the most difficult and the easiest thing he had ever done.

The contact, though fleeting, seemed to unleash something within Arthur, and he pulled Merlin close, his arms wrapping protectively around Merlin’s shoulders as he kissed Merlin back with abandon - his earlier trepidation vanishing in the shadow of his success.

In the months and years to come, Arthur and Merlin would repeat this scene countless times, coming together almost shyly despite their prior successes, and for the rest of their lives, they would remember that cold evening before the newly burning fire, and how the heat between them had put the heat of the fire to shame. 

But for now, they had an evening together by the fireplace, rather more in the way that Merlin had always wanted, and it would seem endless for them both. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not sure I got this how I wanted it, but after four re-writes I'm giving up on perfection. Please tell me the spark to a flame metaphor came across, at least? Sigh. Sometimes the muse is a fickle, fickle friend. xx Cally <3


	7. Cocktails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur is a celebrity chef and Merlin is a guest bartender for his Christmas program.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> modern au  
> strangers to lovers  
> absolutely shameless

Arthur watched the bartender serve, his eyes greedily and hungrily taking in his every detail, from the inky blackness of his untidy hair to his tall, slim build and long, thin fingers. He had a red-lipped smile and a wink of bright blue eyes for every customer. There was something almost feline in the way his body moved, as though he had fewer bones than he should. It was mesmerising, and Arthur wanted to eat him alive.

There was no wonder Avalon was the most exclusive bar in London. Forget alcohol - Arthur would pay good money just to watch this man work.

The entourage with whom Arthur had arrived were busy talking about the latest ratings and reviews, the design team hashing out the newest marketing campaign, but Arthur paid them very little attention. He finished his drink and walked away, approaching the end of the bar, keeping his eyes on the bartender. 

He was wearing what looked like tailored pinstripe trousers, with a grey button-down and a black vest. His cufflinks, Arthur noticed with a smile, were a cocktail shaker and a martini glass.

Finally, Arthur caught his attention. There was no double-take of recognition, so if the bartender knew who Arthur was, he was playing it cool.

“What can I get for you, sir?”

“I’m Arthur,” Arthur said, reaching over the bar to shake the man’s hand.

“Like King Arthur?” he asked, his head quirked at a rather attractive angle. Right, well, he clearly didn’t know who Arthur was. Arthur laughed and shook his hand.

“That’s the guy.”

“Well, Arthur, I’m Merlin.”

“Merlin like the wizard?” Arthur asked, with what he hoped was an equally attractive head-tilt. Merlin’s smile was beautiful and blinding.

“That’s the guy,” Merlin said, grabbing a bright white bar towel and stringing it between his hands. Arthur tried not to stare, “Now, what are you having?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Could you suggest anything?”

“What are your plans for the evening?” Merlin asked, grabbing a cocktail shaker and filling it with ice.

“Christmas party planning, I think,” Arthur answered, nodding back to the table where the entourage was still ensconced. 

"In September?"

Arthur gave what he hoped was a long-suffering sigh and nodded. Merlin laughed, low and melodious.

“Something festive, then,” Merlin answered with a smirk and grabbed a fancy bottle from the shelves behind him.

“While you’re working, I wonder whether I could ask you something?” Arthur watched the man stretch and bend, working swiftly and competently around the other bar staff as he measured and poured rather a lot of ingredients.

“Shoot,” Merlin smiled as he did something incomprehensibly fancy with a long, twisted glass spoon. Arthur was entranced by the shape of his wrists and actually had to swallow and shake his head to clear it.

“Actually, it might be better if we talk in private. When does your shift end?”

Merlin looked up, his cheeks tinted the faintest pink.

“Although I’m flattered,” he smiled, loading a highball glass with perfectly spherical ice, “this isn’t that kind of a place.”

Arthur was taken aback for a few seconds, then he laughed, shocked, “No, you misunderstand me. I’m - I’m in television, and we’re looking for a guest bartender for our Christmas segment.”

Merlin’s cheeks went even pinker, but he remained focused on his task. He poured the amber cocktail over the ice spheres and garnished the drink with a sprig of rosemary and a red curl of apple peel. 

“Television?” Merlin asked, handing over Arthur’s drink. Arthur nodded and handed Merlin a £20 note.

“In that case, I’d better speak to my boss. Two minutes, yeah?”

Merlin made his way down the bar to another till point and began talking to a man with roguish curly hair as he rang up Arthur’s drink. As they talked, with a few surprised looks and expressive gestures, Arthur sipped his drink. It may just have been the best cocktail Arthur had ever tasted in his life. It was Christmas in a mouthful, and immediately his mind was filled with scenes of pine trees, roaring fires, wonderful food, and rooms full of loved ones. It was sweet and herby, slightly spicy with a warming alcoholic buzz to round it off. Arthur was seriously, seriously impressed. 

“He says I’m all yours,” Merlin spoke, interrupting the love affair Arthur was having with his cocktail and handing Arthur his change, “What do you need from me?”

Arthur, who knew better than to answer that truthfully, took a moment to jot down the relevant information on the back of his business card and handed it to Merlin with a smile.

“This has all the details. Thanks for the drink,” Arthur watched Merlin tuck the card into the pocket of his shirt and pat his chest. He turned away with a wink and went off to serve the next customer. 

0--0

Although it was only the end of October, the studio was decorated for Christmas. Every flat surface had been festooned with greenery and fairy lights, and the smell of Christmas was wafting from the various dishes which had been prepared for filming. The crew were all in very festive moods, and someone in the makeup department had put eyeliner on Merlin. It was subtle, just enough to outline his blue, blue eyes, but it was making Arthur unravel slightly, and Arthur loved it.

“You’re not nervous?” Arthur asked, leaning against the bar with his arms crossed over his chest. Around and behind him, the production crew were finalising lighting for the segment, and Merlin was rolling his shoulders and idly shaking some ice cubes in a glass.

“I didn’t realise you were  _ that _ Arthur,” Merlin said, laughing cheekily, “My mum nearly cried when I said you’d invited me onto the show.”

“So your mum knows who I am, but you don’t?”

Merlin cringed as though embarrassed, but he looked straight into Arthur’s eyes as he tried to explain himself, “I don’t own a television and I’m terrible with popular culture.”

“Do you want to know a secret?” Arthur asked, then looked around them conspiratorially, beckoning Merlin closer. Merlin leaned in, the scent of his cologne and the nearness of him making Arthur’s heart race, “I don’t own a television, either.”

“You’re kidding,” Merlin smiled, searching Arthur’s face for the lie. Arthur shook his head and Merlin laughed heartily, “do they know that?”

Arthur looked at his production team, his Producer, Gwen, speaking into her headset and looking calm and capable.

“No, and you’d better not tell them,” Arthur warned, trying to glare. Merlin winked again, (goddamn it that wink was going to be the death of Arthur) and chuckled.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Right, Merlin, are you ready?” Gwen asked, coming over.

“As I’ll ever be,” Merlin said and proceeded to listen to his instructions. They proceeded to chat their way, in a thoroughly friendly manner, through nearly an hour of filming during which time Merlin made three cocktails numerous times and they both were shot from numerous angles. By the end of it, Arthur, at least, was feeling slightly tipsy. Of course, he wasn’t meant to actually sip the drinks when he was offered them, but they were far too tasty to turn down.

The entire production team, actually, were partaking of the cocktails that Merlin had made them. The one he’d made for Arthur at the bar was there, along with a festive take on an Old Fashioned, and a kind of Negroni with apple brandy and prosecco. It was getting late and, thankfully, they had left Merlin’s segment until last, because Arthur doubted whether any of them should be near hot ovens or open flames at the moment.

“Thank you, Merlin, I think that went very well,” Arthur said, taking yet another sip of his drink. How were they so good? Merlin really was something of a wizard.

“That was a lot more fun than I thought it would be,” Merlin admitted, taking a drink himself. He still looked amazing, and Arthur worried that if he had anything more to drink he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from making a move. Actually-

“Listen,” Arthur said, clearing his throat, “I always host a proper Christmas bash the night the show airs. I’d love you to come”

Merlin made a face that Arthur couldn’t interpret, then he frowned down at his hands. Arthur nearly started making excuses but Merlin reached out and very gently touched Arthur’s arm.

“I’m really sorry, Arthur, but the bar is so busy at Christmas time, I don’t think I’ll be able to get away.”

Arthur felt foolish for not thinking of that, but he brushed it off, and a few moments later Gwen and Lance came over to congratulate Merlin on his performance, and Arthur dissolved into the crowd. He did not see Merlin again before he left. 

0--0

The day of the airing arrived, and Arthur’s party was about to begin. He’d hired out a warehouse and tried to adopt a festive party atmosphere, even though he wasn’t really feeling it. There were tables scattered throughout the warehouse piled with holiday food, a stage where a live band would be playing, and, along one long wall, the bar had been set up. He was expecting over a hundred people, and it was going to be a fantastic party. 

Arthur, however, was thinking only of a certain blue-eyed bartender and wishing he was across town at London’s hottest bar.

“Why so glum?”

Arthur turned, the smile already forming on his lips.

“Merlin? I thought you had to work tonight.”

“I am working,” Merlin laughed, brandishing a sleeve and showing Arthur his martini glass cufflinks, “Gwen hired me for the night.”

Arthur wrinkled his brow, confused. The catering staff had been here for hours, and none of the bar staff was from Avalon, Arthur knew. He’d asked.

Merlin chuckled and leaned in, “OK, well, I’m not  _ technically _ working, but don’t tell my boss.”

“Gwen!” Arthur shouted, turning his head to the side so as not to shout in Merlin’s ear.

“Yes, Arthur?” Gwen’s voice came from across the warehouse which was starting to fill with revellers.

“I’m giving you a raise,” Arthur shouted, and, beside him, Merlin laughed. Arthur reached down, took Merlin’s hand and dragged him towards the bar,  “May I offer you a drink?”

0--0

As the show aired, Arthur found himself almost melting into Merlin, who hadn’t left his side the whole evening. On-screen, their chemistry was almost palpable, and whether they had tried to or not, the post-production crew had been unable to edit out Arthur’s hungry stares. Their conversation about televisions had made the cut and, though muted, their whispers, giggles, and flirtatious smiles were there for everyone to see.

When the show was finished, Merlin turned to Arthur, his eyes sparkling, and his lips curved into a huge, knowing smile.

“Are you busy on Saturday?” Merlin asked, taking Arthur’s hand in his.

“Not if you’re asking,” Arthur said, lacing his fingers between Merlin’s. 

“Good, you’re cooking a Christmas feast at my mum’s house.”

“But it isn’t Christmas,” Arthur chuckled, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his entire face.

“That’s never stopped you before,” Merlin laughed, leaning in for a kiss.


	8. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet evening between Arthur and Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> modern au  
> established relationship

Merlin lounged on the sofa, his feet across Arthur’s lap. Arthur was reading aloud from Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, his wonderfully expressive voice transporting Merlin to 1843 London quite successfully. There was a log fire burning in the fireplace, and Merlin had his hands wrapped around a warm mug of spicy mulled cider. He could smell cinnamon, pine, and wood smoke.

There was a paper Christmas-cracker crown nestled in Arthur’s golden hair and his profile looked very kingly, indeed, in the glow of the fairy lights.

“‘ _ What’s to-day, my fine fellow?’ said Scrooge. ‘To-day!’ replied the boy. ‘Why, Christmas Day.’ ' _ _ It’s Christmas Day!’ said Scrooge to himself. ‘I haven’t missed it.’ _ ” Arthur read, the corners of his mouth turning up in a warm, happy smile. The end of A Christmas Carol was Arthur’s favourite. The redemption arc of a greedy, rich man destined to spend eternity repenting for his sins. Merlin knew, of course, that Arthur thought of his own father as a Scrooge character, and Merlin was inclined to agree, though he wasn’t entirely sure Uther deserved redemption. 

Still. Uther was alone at Christmas whereas Arthur was with Merlin and Merlin loved Arthur so fiercely that it frightened him, at times. Merlin drank the last of his cider and set the mug down, closing his eyes and letting Arthur’s voice lull him into a festive stupor. Their day had been very busy with last-minute shopping and gift-wrapping, but at least they were done. Tomorrow was Christmas, and they would deliver their presents to friends and family, politely declining dinner invitations, then they would return to their home and spend the evening together, just like this. 

When Arthur reached the end of the book, he closed it gently and set it aside. Merlin withdrew his feet from Arthur’s lap, curling them underneath him as he went to Arthur’s side. Merlin kissed him, one hand lazily combing through his hair and brushing against the paper crown, and Arthur hummed, content.

“Shall we turn in?” Merlin asked. Arthur kissed Merlin on his lips, then on his neck at the base of his ear. Merlin could feel the shape of Arthur’s smile against his skin. 

“Not yet,” Arthur murmured, pulling Merlin tighter against him and kissing his hair, “Let’s just sit a while.”

Merlin rested his head against Arthur’s shoulder, one of Arthur’s hands running along his back slowly up, then down again. It had been a busy day and it would be another busy one tomorrow, but for now, it was just the two of them, the dying fire, and the glow of the Christmas tree lights.


	9. Christmas List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin writes his boss's name on the top of his Christmas to-do list as a sort of joke. Arthur doesn't find it funny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boss/employee relationship  
> friends to more  
> idiots to whatever  
> just two boys being idiots

Merlin’s colleagues filed past on their way home, shouting cheerio’s and farewells, and Merlin waved them all off with a smile and a sigh. Arthur, it seemed, was working late. Again. Which was fine, really. It wasn't as though Merlin had plans. He never had  _ plans _ because he hated cancelling and he never knew when he'd have to work. Arthur liked to have Merlin at his beck and call. So, no. Merlin didn’t have plans, even though it was a Friday in December.

He did, however, have a long list of things he needed to do before Christmas. Merlin brought out a pad of paper and his favourite pen and contemplated his Christmas To-Do List. Which was when he began to stare sullenly at Arthur’s closed office door.

Because the number one thing Merlin wanted to do this Christmas, was Arthur. 

0--0

Arthur paced his office, trying desperately to think of a legitimate reason to stay late and work, but there was nothing. Why did Merlin have to be so efficient? There were no reports that desperately needed to be done before Monday. There were no outstanding invoices that needed to be processed. It was almost as though Merlin didn’t want to spend his Friday night at work.

Arthur threw himself sullenly into his chair and frowned, then sat up again, quickly, with a broad smile on his face. The Wandsworth report. They could discuss the Wandsworth report. That was as good an excuse as Arthur was likely to think of. 

Arthur strode through his office door and towards Merlin’s desk. Merlin was staring absentmindedly into space with the end of a pen held between his lips. It was unfair how beautiful Merlin was. It was just...unfair.

“The Wandsworth report,” Arthur blurted out, because as usual when he was around Merlin he lost all powers of higher brain function.

Merlin bounced in his chair, clearly startled, then he flung his arms about wildly as though he wasn’t sure where he was or what he was doing. He looked at Arthur with wide eyes and patted his hands down atop his desk frantically. Just before he grabbed the pad of paper he’d been writing it on and whisked it away out of Arthur’s sight, Arthur caught what he had written.

It was a To-Do list which Merlin had hastily decorated with doodles of Christmas trees and stars. There were five items scribbled down so far, but none of that was what caught Arthur’s eye. What caught Arthur’s eye was that item number one on Merlin’s list was Arthur’s name.

0--0

“Arthur, I’m begging you not to ever startle me like that again,” Merlin said, rather frantically, as he covered up his ridiculous list.  _ To-Do: 1) Arthur. _ What the hell had Merlin been thinking? 

“Sorry,” Arthur said quickly, then, “I was thinking we could go over the Wandsworth report.”

Merlin’s heart rate had not settled and his thoughts were completely scattered. It wasn’t fair that Arthur was so incredibly good-looking. It made it difficult for Merlin to think straight when he was around Arthur and, as Arthur was his boss, it was all just… deeply unfair.

“The Wandsworth report?” Merlin asked, as though he’d never heard the name before, “Oh, er - we don’t have any of the figures through for that one yet.”

“Oh,” Arthur said looking like a child whose balloon had just been popped, “OK.”

Without another word, Arthur retreated to his office and shut his door. If Merlin didn’t know any better he would think that Arthur was manufacturing reasons for them to stay late and work, but Arthur had a very full social schedule that he was quite fond of, so if they were working late on a Friday then there had to be a very good reason. A reason, it seemed, that Arthur had temporarily forgotten.

At least Arthur hadn’t seen the list, Merlin thought, tearing the page off the notepad and crumpling it into the bin. That would have been a disaster.

0--0

In the end, Arthur had been unable to fabricate a reason to stay, and he and Merlin had left the office before six, which was practically unheard of. Though Arthur felt slightly bereft at having to spend his evening without Merlin, at least he could console himself that he’d allowed Merlin to get along with the list of things he had to do.

The first of which was, apparently, Arthur.

By the time Monday came along, Arthur had decided that item one on that list had meant Merlin needed to get Arthur a Christmas gift. What else could it have been? But Arthur hated when Merlin bought him gifts - Arthur made so much more money than Merlin did, rather unfairly if Arthur was honest, and he didn’t like Merlin spending money on him. So as soon as Merlin arrived that morning, looking almost lethally attractive in a dark-blue shirt and tie, Arthur called him into his office.

“Morning Arthur! Did you have a nice weekend? I got you a coffee,” Merlin’s smile was like a blinding bright light and Arthur had to blink to orient himself.

“It was alright, thanks, yours?” Arthur said, taking the coffee from Merlin.

“Busy.”

They were silent as Arthur sipped his coffee, trying to muster the courage he needed. Why did all reasoning and normal thoughts completely escape his head in Merlin’s presence? 

“Christmas is coming up,” Arthur said, pathetically.

“Yes, it is,” Merlin sounded like he was waiting for the punchline, and Arthur cleared his throat.

“Have you got a lot of people to buy for?”

“A few. My mum and her uncle, and some friends. You?”

“Yeah, yeah. Same.”

Merlin’s head tilted to the side and he narrowed his eyes at Arthur, smiling cheekily.

“You’re buying gifts for my mum and my great-uncle?”

“No! No, obviously not, I just meant that I also have a lot of people to buy for.”

“Right,” Merlin chuckled and sipped his own coffee. The silence between them was awkward and Arthur was miserable. 

“Youdon’tneedtogetmeapresent,” Arthur said, his words melding into one long word which Merlin would have needed a translator to decipher. He sighed heavily and tried again, “you don’t need to get me anything for Christmas, Merlin.”

Merlin was looking at him as though he’d just explained that one plus one equals two. Why was this so difficult?

“I know I don’t, you’ve told me that every year, Arthur. This year I was actually planning to listen to you.”

“Good, good,” Arthur said, then, after another long silence, “Well, I’d better-”

“Yeah, I’ve got loads to do, too. Call if you need anything.”

“Sure,” Arthur said, the height of wit once again, and watched Merlin leave his office.

If Merlin wasn’t planning on getting Arthur anything for Christmas, then what the hell had that list been for?

0--0

The week crawled by. The Wandsworth report turned out to be difficult and tedious, and it caused many late nights which Merlin was beginning to resent. Not because he had anything better to do, but because if he was spending time with Arthur anyway, he wished they could be doing something fun.

Arthur had been acting strange all week, unable to look directly at Merlin and mumbling under his breath when they did speak. Merlin decided that it was because Arthur was feeling guilty at monopolising so much of Merlin’s time at Christmas, and he made a mental note to smooth things over before Friday came around.

He didn’t want Arthur feeling guilty over the weekend, that just didn’t seem fair. So at lunchtime on Friday, Merlin knocked gently on Arthur’s office door and went in, determined to set things right.

“Hey, Arthur-”

“What does it  _ mean _ ?” Arthur asked, throwing Merlin completely off guard. He looked frightened and exhausted, his eyes wide and deeply set in his unusually pale skin. Actually, he looked rather ill. Merlin wondered whether he was feeling sick. They had been working awfully hard, maybe they needed a break. The Wandsworth report could wait until the new year, surely.

“What does what mean?”

“Your list! Your list!” Arthur almost shouted, and Merlin stepped back until he was against the door, feeling actually worried. 

“My list?”

“If it isn’t a list of gifts to buy then what is it? Why have you got my name on a list?” Arthur asked, and he brandished the crumpled remains of Merlin’s stupid Christmas To-Do List. Merlin’s stomach dropped and he exhaled forcefully. Oh. That list. Merlin scrambled for an excuse.

“It _ is  _ gifts-”

“No, it isn’t! You said you weren’t going to get me anything this year,” Arthur said, calmer now but still looking frantic. 

“I meant  _ cards _ , I need to get you a Christmas  _ card, _ ” Merlin lied wildly, wishing he’d never written that damn list. Arthur sat up in his chair, almost looking normal, if a bit tired.

“Cards?”

“Cards. I didn’t want to forget to get you a card.”

“Right,” Arthur laughed, shaking his head. Then he gestured at the card that Merlin had given him which was positioned at the front of all the others on his bookshelves. “Well, you got me a card, so, you can cross me off.”

Arthur made a big show of crossing his own name off item one on Merlin’s list, then he crumpled it again and threw it in his own bin.

“Right,” Merlin said, half-heartedly as he wandered back to his desk feeling terrible. He shouldn’t have lied. Arthur was clearly distraught at not knowing why on Earth Merlin would have written his name down on a list. Arthur hated not knowing things, regardless of what they were. 

However, Merlin was relieved, and he turned to his computer, feeling rather like he had dodged a bullet.

0--0

Arthur stared at the crumpled list in the bin for a good twenty minutes after Merlin left his office, making up his mind. Then he picked up his phone and dialled Merlin’s desk.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Merlin, could you please come through for a moment?”

“Sure!”

Arthur waited, and a few seconds later the door to his office opened and closed again. Merlin stood by the door, notepad and pen at the ready.

“What do you need?”

“The thing is,” Arthur started, standing and walking around his desk, perching himself on the edge and folding his arms, “You gave me my Christmas card days before you wrote that list.”

“The list-?”

“The list you threw away that had my name on it, Merlin. It wasn’t for gifts, and it wasn’t for cards, I know that. All I really want is for you to tell me what it was for, and why you had my name written down. I don’t like being lied to.”

Arthur watched, not unsympathetically, as Merlin squirmed. He hated being like this, but if he didn’t find out what the list was actually for it was going to drive him insane. Better have it out in the open and deal with the consequences.

Merlin sighed, looking away from Arthur and then back again, biting his lip.

“Fine!” Merlin said, quite suddenly, in a louder voice than was necessary, “fine, I might as well just tell you because I can see that you’re not going to let it go.”

Arthur waited, hoping to seem patient rather than eager, and, after taking a deep breath, Merlin spoke again.

“It  _ was _ a Christmas to-do list, but it wasn’t about gifts or cards or anything.”

“OK, then, what was it?”

“I’ve been thinking for a while that it might be a good idea to ask you out on a date. OK? I wrote your name down to sort of force myself to do it, but then I chickened out. Again.”

Arthur stared at him. A date? Merlin wanted to ask Arthur on a date? Was Santa delivering gifts early this year?

“You put asking me out on a date at number _ one _ on your Christmas to-do list?”

Merlin was looking down at his own feet, clearly very embarrassed, and Arthur couldn’t stop smiling.

“Yes.”

“Number one,” Arthur clarified.

“Yes! OK? It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for years so I bumped it up the list. So what?” Merlin was defensive now, and Arthur still couldn’t stop smiling.

“Stop smiling like that!” Merlin said, looking adorably cross, “Me making an idiot of myself isn't something to smile about.”

“I’m smiling because I’m excited.”

“Excited? Why? Because you’ve finally discovered the great mystery of the crumpled-up list you stole out of my bin?”

“No. I’m excited because I’m going to say yes, and I’m looking forward to our date.”

“You’re- You’re going to say yes?” Merlin said, his face an equal mix of shock, joy, and incredulity.

“Yes, I am. Does tonight suit you? I don’t think I’ve got any plans,” Arthur said, truthfully. Merlin was smiling properly now, and Arthur’s felt happier than he had in days.

“But what about the Wandsworth report?” 

“The Wandsworth report? Oh, I’m pretty sure that can wait until January.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I could have made this one into a 50K slow-burn, but this will have to do. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. xx Cally


	10. O Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every year Arthur ropes Merlin into stealing a tree from somewhere in the wilderness and every year it makes Merlin totally miserable. This year, something unexpected happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they were flatmates  
> friends to lovers  
> just two boys being adorable idiots  
> fluff all over the damn place

Merlin trekked through the wilderness, nervous and unhappy. The snow was deep and every few metres Merlin was forced to stop and wrestle one of his legs out of a hole. He didn't think he had ever been so completely wet and miserable.

"Merlin?"

"I'm here!"

"Where?"

"Buried up to my neck in snow and wishing we had never met."

Arthur appeared around the trunk of an enormous oak tree, bobble hat bouncing jauntily. His cheeks were tinted with a rosy hue and his eyes sparkled, he was clearly in his element and enjoying himself. It wasn't the first time in their long friendship that Merlin had questioned Arthur's sanity.

"Don't be so melodramatic," Arthur said, with an audible roll of his eyes as he reached out a hand to help Merlin up. "Merlin, you weigh so much less than I do, how is it possible that you're the one sinking in the snow?"

"Maybe you're a part elf," Merlin grumbled, not even bothering to dust himself off - he'd be up to his armpits again soon, so it would just be a waste of time.

"Please, Merlin. With those cheekbones and those eyes? Out of the two of us, you're definitely the one who's part fae."

Arthur scampered off into the distance leaving Merlin, open-mouthed and blushing, behind in the snow. Arthur was always, _always_ doing that - saying something incredibly fond and flattering and then walking away before Merlin had a chance to process what he had said. Of all of Arthur’s annoying traits, of which there were many, that one irked Merlin more than the others. Especially since Merlin was, and practically always had been, head over heels in love with the oblivious git.

“Are you coming?”

Merlin traipsed between trees, trying to avoid the deepest drifts, and scowling, followed deeper into the woods.

“Remind me why we do this every single year?”

“Because _Mer_ lin, half of the joy of a cut-your-own Christmas tree is finding and cutting down your own tree!”

“Yes, but why _here?_ There are actual farms not too far from London where you can do this, you know, legally.”

Arthur didn’t answer. He had stopped beneath an attractive spruce, looking up with wide eyes. Merlin stepped beside him and looked, not at the tree but at Arthur, eyes equally wide. This was why Merlin allowed the excursion each year. For that very specific look that Arthur got when he found their Christmas tree.

“O Christmas Tree,” Arthur whispered, almost reverent. Merlin nudged his shoulder, all thoughts of misery having evaporated into the cold winter air. Whatever he’d been through, and whatever else the night had in store, everything, _everything_ was worth it.

Except, of course, that it bloody well wasn’t. After they’d spent nearly an hour chopping down the tree and a further two hours schlepping the damned thing out of the damned forest, Merlin really was wishing that he’d never met Arthur.

Why, oh why had they been boarded together at Uni? Why, oh why had their mutual animosity turned, suddenly and unexpectedly, to admiration and equally suddenly to true friendship. Why, oh why hadn’t Merlin just taken Arthur at his obnoxious, arrogant, entitled face value and run for the hills?

“I wish we’d never met,” Merlin cried, collapsing against the door of their rented SUV. Every single one of his muscles ached, every item of clothing he wore was soaked through, he had cuts, bruises, and grazes on every exposed centimetre of his skin, he was exhausted from having to stay up all night and, to top of all of that, he was absolutely famished.

“You say that every year,” Arthur said, brushing dirt and pine needles off his otherwise immaculate jacket. He looked as though he’d simply been out for a midnight stroll. Merlin looked as though he’d been chopped down and dragged across the forest floor.

“I mean it every year,” Merlin groaned.

“Just think of how perfect it will be, though,” Arthur said enthusiastically, manhandling Merlin until they were facing each other, “standing in our sitting room, filled with lights and baubles.”

“And birds’ nests and baby squirrels and all of the creepy-crawlies whose home we’ve stolen-”

“Merlin, come on! It isn’t all that bad, surely?”

Merlin looked into Arthur’s still-excited face, glowing healthily from their exertions and from his untameable joy. Merlin was physically incapable of disappointing that face.

“Fine,” Merlin conceded, forcing a smile.

Arthur leaned forward and kissed Merlin swiftly on the tip of his nose then cuffed both of his shoulders in a thoroughly manly fashion and marched off to his side of the car. Merlin shook his head, disgusted by the ridiculousness of the entire evening, and opened the passenger door. 

It was on their way down the logging track that they were accosted by the police. Merlin had nearly fallen asleep, despite Arthur’s unending chatter, when he was pitched forward in his chair as Arthur hit the brakes. 

“Arthur-”

“I know-”

“ _Arthur-”_

_“I know-”_

Twenty minutes later they were back on their way home. Arthur was driving, still, looking crestfallen and rather sheepish. Merlin was sitting in the passenger seat, far, far too angry to be tired any longer.

“Merlin-”

“No-”

“But-”

“No-”

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Arthur spoke very quickly and quietly, almost as though his words were a flood that had burst a dam.

“I’m sorry I never told you that my father owns this land I just thought it was more exciting when it felt clandestine.”

After another long, uncomfortable silence, Arthur tried to apologise again, but Merlin was too angry. He couldn’t help it. He’d thought they were going to be arrested and Arthur had simply smiled, introduced himself, and explained that his father owned the land and, therefore, they weren’t technically stealing anything. The fact that they hadn’t gotten his father’s express permission to purloin a spruce tree didn’t seem to matter to anyone at all.

Arthur pulled into a passing place and turned off the car, turning to Merlin, his face deeply shadowed in the glow of the dashboard lights.

“Look, Merlin, I’m sorry. OK? I hate admitting how disgustingly wealthy my father really is, and I have a hard time talking about it. It isn’t necessarily an excuse, but it is an apology. Please don’t let it ruin this.”

“Ruin what?” 

“The night. This night. Our Christmas tree ritual.”

“Arthur, how can this possibly ruin our night? I’ve been utterly miserable since we left the flat. I hate your Christmas tree ritual. I hate having a cut tree, it gets dead needles all over our flat that we’ll still be hoovering up in November next year. This tree would probably have lived for a further two hundred years if we hadn’t murdered it. I’ve been telling you for years I wanted to buy a potted tree so that we can plant it sometime in January and give something _back_ to nature for a change. I hate having to stumble through the wilderness in the middle of the night getting filthy and injured and, sometimes, frostbite. I hate every second of it. You know I hate it - I tell you every single year.”

By the time Merlin had finished his speech, he felt hollowed-out and rather bereft. Arthur’s face was a perfect tableau of disappointment and heartbreak and Merlin hated that he had caused it. Still, Merlin was hurt, too. Arthur had been lying to him for years, and maybe he was fooling himself, but Merlin thought their relationship meant more to Arthur that that.

“But more than all of that, I hate being lied to.”

The silence between them was leaden rather than awkward, weighed down by both truth and lies.

“I know,” Arthur said, nodding with his eyes closed, “and I really am sorry.”

Merlin looked out at the desolate landscape, the light of the moon glinting off the snow-covered trees. It was a crisp, beautiful night. Maybe Merlin was being a little too harsh, maybe there were somethings about their Christmas tree outings that weren’t entirely awful. 

“Is there anything else you’re lying to me about?”

Arthur looked hard at Merlin, then looked out of the window. They were plunged into darkness as the car lights went off, and Merlin was instantly relieved. Some conversations were easier in the dark.

“There is-” Arthur started, then swallowed, and in the dim light cast by the moon Merlin saw him grip the steering wheel, “there is something else.

“Another lie?” Merlin asked, both desperately wanting and not wanting to know the answer.

“Not a lie, just something about which I’m not being entirely truthful.”

Merlin took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. He hated the Christmas tree outings. He wished he and Arthur had never left their flat. What was wrong with an artificial tree, anyway?

“What is it, Arthur?”

“I’m trying, don’t rush me,” Arthur said, pleading rather than harsh. Merlin shut his mouth and waited.

A cloud scudded across the moon and they were steeped in even blacker darkness. Arthur moved his hands from the steering wheel to his lap and back again half a dozen times. Merlin counted backwards from three hundred just so that he wouldn’t demand something of Arthur before he was ready. Then, suddenly-

“OK. For a while now I’ve been wondering whether it might be a good idea for us to see whether we could be more than just friends.”

The moon reappeared, the light increasing around them, but nothing whatsoever on the entire Earth could have made Merlin look at Arthur in that moment. His heart felt like it was bursting out of his ears and there was a taste of something vaguely electric and coppery in his mouth. 

“Are you saying that you think you might have feelings for me?” Merlin asked because if there was anything in his life he needed clarification on it was this, now. 

“I don’t think, I know. Which is the lie. I’ve known for a long time that I have more-than-friendly feelings for you, and not telling you, in light of what happened tonight, feels like a lie.”

The awkwardness had returned to their silence with a vengeance. Merlin felt as though he couldn’t catch his breath. His hands and feet, which had warmed in the car, were once again cold as ice. He counted down backwards from three hundred again, trying to give his brain time to catch up with the rest of the conversation. Finally, his eyes firmly locked on something indistinct ahead of them on the road, Merlin spoke.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes we should see whether or not we can be more than just friends,” Merlin said, finally looking over at Arthur - it was standing before the Christmas tree all over again watching Arthur’s face light up with reverent joy. 

“Yeah?”

“I said yeah, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said and, still smiling, he turned the key in the ignition.

“O Christmas tree,” Merlin said, unable to contain the wild laugh that bubbled out from his chest. Arthur looked over at him, eyes dancing, and put the car in gear.

“O Christmas tree.”


	11. Scented Candle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin encounters an article about historians trying to re-create the scents of historic London which he and Arthur find rather hilarious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> established relationship  
> reincarnation fic

Beside Arthur on the sofa, Merlin snorted and laughed heartily. Arthur glanced over briefly but didn’t stop reading the article about Festive Things To Do In London. Merlin’s body began shuddering as he tried to suppress more laughter, spluttering every now and then when he failed completely. Diverted, Arthur set his phone aside.

“What are you so hysterical about?” 

“Look at this,” Merlin said, showing Arthur the screen of his phone which was open to a New York Times article.

“Hold still!” Arthur said, trying to read Merlin’s phone, “Hold still! Fine, then, just tell me what it’s about.”

“Historians are trying to revive the smells of the past,” Merlin said, still chuckling, “so that people nowadays can experience what sixteenth-century London smelled like.”

Arthur blinked, staring into the distance, and then burst out laughing.

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Are they taking volunteers? I know a couple of people whose expertise would be rather useful on that subject.”

“So tell me, Arthur, what  _ did _ sixteenth-century London smell like?” Merlin asked in an overly-posh voice, pretending to hold a notepad and paper in mid-air.

“Piss, shite, rotting food, and rancid fat,” Arthur replied, his stomach churning at the very thought. The sixteenth-century hadn’t been as bad as the fourteenth, but it certainly hadn’t been nice.

“Wood smoke, seaweed, and death,” Merlin added, his face scrunched in disgust.

“Why London? The countryside wasn’t as bad as the city. In fact, there were places that didn’t have any sort of a memorable smell at all. So, why London?”

“In the countryside, you had abattoirs and animal faeces, Arthur, don’t you remember?”

“I remember a cottage beside a river,” Arthur said, then he leaned down and kissed the curve of Merlin’s neck, “and I remember the smell of your skin after a bath.”

Merlin pushed himself up and kissed Arthur gently, then settled down again, his body fitting against Arthur’s as though it belonged there. Which, of course, it did. They were quiet for a bit, both of them remembering all of their lives together.

“How do you think they’ll present these smells?” Arthur asked, bringing them back to the current topic.

“Maybe they’ll have diorama rooms like you get in wax museums and just pipe the smells in through the air vents.”

“That sounds absolutely horrific. Can you imagine? A diorama of a London street with runnels of urine and kitchen waste running down beside the buildings, piles of wax-work horse shite on the cobbled streets, and the smell of the plague pits wafting through the air.”

“Scented candles, then?”

“A fire hazard with the aroma of a tannery,” Arthur said, imbuing his voice with a romantic tone, and both he and Merlin dissolved into laughter.

“We’re talking about a time frame when the air was so foul that doctors literally thought it could kill you, and these people want to bring that back.”

“They’d think differently if they’d actually been there,” Arthur mused, going back to the article he’d been reading. Arthur was firmly in the  _ anyone who called it the good old days hadn’t actually lived through them _ school of thought, and he and Merlin were uniquely qualified in that field because both of them  _ had _ lived through those years. They’d lived through many, many years together. And yet it never seemed enough.

“They’d probably value your input as a world-renowned historian,” Merlin said, nudging Arthur with his shoulder before he got up and crossed the room.

“I’m busy,” Arthur murmured. Which was true. He was still working with the Victoria & Albert Museum on their Chrismas exhibition.

“Well, if they ever do complete that scent museum,” Merlin said, striking a match and holding it to the wick of a pine-scented candle, we should absolutely go.”

“Fine,” Arthur said, shifting slightly as Merlin sat back down beside him and kissed him lightly, “add it to the list.”

Merlin made a note on his phone and, Arthur knew, he would write the scent museum on their endless To-Do list that they kept across their own generations so that they could experience as much of their world as possible. Then Merlin put down his phone and just lay against Arthur, eyes closed and breathing deeply.

Christmas was always their favourite time. Pine boughs, chestnuts, and fairy lights. Merlin went all-out with the decorations and had done since Victorian times. Arthur was happy to indulge him. At least their many candles were scented nice, warming, Christmas scents, and not even a little bit like historic London.

Arthur chuckled at the very idea of something so ridiculous, then turned back to his phone. The world sure was a funny old place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here is the NYT article, for anyone who is interested.](https://www.nytimes.com/2020/11/18/world/europe/europe-historic-smells.html)


	12. Dashing Through the Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin enjoys his village's traditional Christmas sleigh rides, even if he is disappointed to be taking this one on his own. On his own until Arthur appears, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strangers  
> First meeting  
> Modern AU

"It's fine, Gwen, go with Lance, I'll be alright on my own," Merlin said, hoping he sounded convincing. 

“Thanks, Merls!” Gwen said, positively glowing as she bounced off to join Lance in their sleigh. Around him, snow fell heavily and Merlin adjusted his hat, pulling it further down on his head.

Gwen turned and waved as the sleigh pulled away, the bells on the horses jingling jauntily. Merlin waved back then sighed. It was a beautiful night, full moon glowing, snow drifting down. Merlin loved his village at Christmas, loved when his friends all came back from where they'd been. These were the people Merlin had grown up with, who knew all of his stories. The problem was that Merlin hadn't left. He'd stayed to help his mum run their bookshop. It was work he loved and he enjoyed doing it, but his chances of meeting someone here were slim and, only sometimes, Merlin was lonely.

This year, especially, felt different. Most of his friends had  _ found someone, _ and of course Merlin hadn't.

The two horses drawing the next sleigh trotted over and Merlin adjusted his hat again. He wasn't going to miss out on the customary sleigh ride around the village just because he had no one to ride with. Although, really, there was nothing like a solo moon-lit sleigh ride to really emphasise his absolute lack of boyfriend.

"You on your own, son?" The man driving the sleigh looked down and tipped his hat at Merlin.

"Looks like," Merlin shrugged, stepping into the sleigh. There were warm blankets on the benches and Merlin sat and began wrapping one over his knees. The driver urged the horses on and the sleigh began to move slowly through the snow.

A moment later the sleigh rocked startlingly and Merlin instinctively grabbed onto the person who had vaulted into the sleigh to stop them from falling out of it again. 

"Watch it!" The driver scowled.

"Sorry, mate!" 

The man sat himself down next to Merlin and started tucking himself beneath a blanket, acting for all the world as though he and Merlin were old friends. Except Merlin had never seen him before. He couldn't decide which question to ask first.

"I'm Arthur," the man said, eliminating one of Merlin's questions.

"I'm Merlin."

"Hunith's son?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"I said - I'm Arthur."

"Yes, I got that, but your name doesn't really tell me who you are."

The man laughed a deep, pleasant laugh, then turned his dark blue eyes on Merlin.

"I'm Uther's son," Arthur explained, and in an instant Merlin understood many, many things. Uther was the resident Lord, and he owned the manor house on the western edge of the village. Uther owned most of the village, actually, including the building Merlin had grown up in.

"Oh, right," Merlin mumbled, unable to think of anything else to say.

They were quiet for a time, watching the snow fall. Merlin knew that Uther had children, but he had never seen either of them. The manor house was only one of Uther's many homes, and rarely used. Merlin always assumed it was a tax dodge of some sort. 

Beside him, Arthur sucked in a breath. They'd reached the village square and it was beautiful. All of the buildings were decorated with greenery, red ribbons, and golden fairy lights. Merlin had actually done most of the decorating himself. Arthur's face was beautiful, too.

"How long are you staying in the village?"

"Oh," Arthur said, looking sheepish, "until further notice, I'm afraid. I'm working on my PhD, and I need somewhere quiet so that I can concentrate."

"A PhD? Wow! What's the subject?"

"Magical realism in British fiction."

Merlin blinked then stared. Magical realism was his favourite genre of fiction. He tamped down his urge to gush.

"We have a signed first edition of Skellig in the shop, if you're interested."

"Had."

"Had?" 

"Had. I bought it this afternoon, that's when I met your mum. She's the one who told me about the sleigh rides."

Of course she was. 

"Actually, she volunteered your services-"

"My  _ services?  _ For what?"

"A tour guide," Arthur answered, looking at Merlin with excitement, "and please don't say no. If I can't have you as my guide it'll need to be George, our estate manager, and he's the most boring man in Britain."

Merlin looked thoughtfully at Arthur, at his genuine smile, his blue eyes and golden hair, his cheekbones. Being Arthur's tour guide around the village certainly wouldn't be a hardship. 

"Sure," Merlin shrugged. Arthur immediately took out his phone and demanded Merlin's number, and Merlin obliged. 

"You know, you could always just come and find me at the bookshop," Merlin said, slightly embarrassed. It had been a very long time since anyone had asked for his phone number. 

"Oh, I plan to do that as well," Arthur said, sincerely, putting his phone away and adjusting the blanket. 

As the sleigh continued its slow circuit of the village, Arthur and Merlin shared further pleasant conversation. There was no awkwardness, just interesting discussions and a fair bit of laughter. It felt like he and Arthur were old friends, reunited and catching each other up on the bullet points of their lives. 

"Which is how I ended up here," Arthur said, shrugging. 

"Well, I'm sure you'll be able to concentrate here. Our village is much less diverting than London - nothing ever happens here."

"Moonlit sleigh rides notwithstanding?"

"Ah, yes, but this only happens once a year. It's probably the most exciting event of the calendar year, if I'm honest."

"The most exciting thing to happen in the village all year and you were on your own? So, no girlfriend, I take it?"

Merlin hated this. The Coming Out he had to do every time he met someone new. It got tiresome trying to guess how people might react. Glancing at Arthur to gauge his reaction, Merlin said, "If I had anyone, he'd be a boyfriend, but, no. I'm on my own."

Arthur met his eyes and they were thankfully as open and friendly as ever. 

"Hmm. Interesting."

Before Merlin got a chance to question Arthur's statement, the carriage slowed to a stop. The driver turned around and smiled at them. 

"May I ask you a question?" Arthur said, leaning forwards.

"Yes, sir," the driver said politely.

"Do your horses find pulling the carriage difficult?"

"No, sir. They could pull this all day, no bother."

"They're not tired?"

"No, sir."

"Because I was thinking, as it's such a lovely evening, I'd rather enjoy an extended journey. What do you think, Merlin?"

Merlin was freezing, and his backside was sore from the hard wooden bench, but Arthur's eyes were gleaming and, after all, it  _ was _ a lovely evening. He shrugged, smiling. 

"I wonder if you'd be able to take us around the village again," Arthur offered the man a crisp folded note, "perhaps a trifle faster?"

"Yes, sir," the driver said with a wink, turning back to his horses.

Merlin adjusted his hat and laughed as the horses pulled away much faster than before. Arthur grabbed the last of the blankets and draped it over both of their laps.

"Tell me more about growing up in the village," Arthur said, smiling at Merlin as they went off into the night, dashing through the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written entirely on my mobile phone so I apologise for any errors. I'll check it on the computer tomorrow. <3


	13. Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unapologetically intimate moment between two lovers on a frosty December morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> established relationship
> 
> This is another snapshot of a cosy, intimate moment. I'm sorry if you're bored of these little snippets, I am actively trying to make each one of them dynamic, but there's something about this year that makes me want to write these boys in comfortable, established relationships where they are just cosily in love. So, I'm sorry, but I am also not sorry.

Merlin lay in bed, enjoying the lazy calm of a quiet morning. Beside him, arms and legs draped over Merlin protectively, Arthur slept peacefully. The air was crisp and cold and Merlin’s breath fogged before him.

Outside the window, the sun was slowly rising, as lazy this morning as Merlin and his love. Of course, they had plenty to do today, it being one of the last shopping days before Christmas, but for now, there was just the two of them and the early morning. 

Merlin reached his hand out from under the covers and placed one long, thin finger against the cold pane of glass. From the point of impact, a geometric spray of ice crystals formed, spreading frost across the window slowly, as though Merlin was an artist painting with translucent paint.

Merlin retracted his hand back beneath the covers. Arthur’s body contracted around Merlin’s as Arthur woke, and Merlin pressed his single ice-cold finger back against the skin of Arthur’s stomach.

“Ah! You bastard!” Arthur growled lovingly, and he pulled Merlin closer, his lips pressing a smile to Merlin’s spine. Merlin stretched, his feet popping out from under the covers at the bottom of the bed, letting out a long sigh, then he curled back against Arthur, perfectly content.

Merlin turned over to see Arthur looking at the artwork of frost on the windowpane, a beautiful, worshipful smile on his face and his heart ached with love. 

“You’re an absolute marvel,” Arthur said, kissing the top of Merlin’s head.

“Back at you,” Merlin murmured, nestling his head beneath Arthur’s chin.

It was a cold, frosty morning, they had plenty of things to do, but for now, they had time and plenty of ways to keep each other warm.


	14. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas lunch with friends takes a turn for the hilarious when Gwaine tells a story about an amusing episode with some mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> modern AU  
> established relationship
> 
> This is just a silly one. My brain wasn't really working properly today. <3

"He didn't!" Gwen asked. 

"I did," Gwaine admitted, looking suitably ashamed. Gwen put her hands over her face and dissolved into laughter. 

"Please tell me there's photographic evidence," Percy said, winking at his husband across the table. Gwaine rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"I took a video," Morgana chimed, proffering her phone for all to see.

Elyan was, unsurprisingly, first in the queue for the viewing, his laughter rolling through the room. Arthur, who had, of course, already seen the video, leaned back in his chair with a sausage roll. Merlin refilled his and Arthur's glasses then sat back, laying his hand warmly on Arthur's leg. 

Gwen was curled against Lance's chest, the hilarity of the moment having reduced her to breathless tears. Leon left the table with a handful of empty bottles, clanking away towards the kitchen. 

Gwaine accepted the teasing good-naturedly, knowing he deserved it. 

"There was mistletoe, what was I supposed to do?"

"Mistletoe or no mistletoe, you're not meant to snog former Prime Ministers, Gwaine," Morgana said, speaking very slowly as though Gwaine was a small child. 

"Bet he loved it!" Percy said, winking again. 

"Can we change the subject before my wife passes out from lack of oxygen?" Lance asked, looking worried. 

"He hasn't told you about how he also snogged the former Prime Minister's head of security," Morgana laughed. 

"It was the MISTLETOE!" Gwaine could barely be heard over the laughter. 

Merlin laughed along with him, looking at Arthur with twinkling eyes. Arthur, overcome with contentment, leaned over and kissed him briefly. 

"None of that now, little brother," Morgana chastised.

"Yes, we're glad you two finally got together, but snogging at Christmas lunch is a bit much," Elyan said, wagging his finger to show he was only half serious. 

"You can't blame me," Arthur shrugged, "it was the mistletoe."

"What mistletoe?" Gwen asked, reappearing from behind her hands.

Arthur nodded at Merlin who magically produced a sprig of mistletoe out of thin air. The table exploded into thunderous laughter again. 

"That's cheating," Gwaine said, pouting.

"Don't you get any ideas!" Percy grabbed the mistletoe out of Merlin’s hands and chucked it into the burning fire, "I know I'm a very understanding husband, but there is a limit."

"Hey!" Arthur shouted, frowning, "we were using that."

"That's OK," Merlin turned to Arthur and produced another branch of mistletoe, "I've got more."


	15. Advent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets in over his head while trying to woo a handsome stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> strangers to something  
> arthur is an idiot

“OK, so you overheard the hot guy talking to the barista about their writers’ group and you decided to join the group to try and woo the hot guy?” 

“Yes.”

“But, Arthur, you’re not a writer.”

“I know that Morgana, believe me!” Arthur was seriously regretting calling his sister in his hour of need - he should have known better. He was going to be ruthlessly mocked for this. Possibly forever.

“So, what’s the problem now?”

“The problem is that I got away with not participating the first few weeks, but this week we’ve all been assigned a specific prompt and we’re expected to contribute something.”

Arthur rolled his eyes as his sister laughed down the phone, starting to get rather annoyed.

“If you’re not going to help me, Morgana, it’s fine.”

“I _can’t_ help you, Arthur, I’m worse at writing than you are!” Morgana said, still laughing, and Arthur had to agree with her. 

“I just need an idea, Morgana, my mind is a complete blank,” Arthur stared at his computer which was open to Google Drive on a completely blank page. He only had a few hours left before the writers’ group meeting, and he was, quite literally, desperate.

“What’s the prompt?”

“Advent.”

“Advent? Are you serious?”

“Why would I lie about this?”

“Don’t get shirty with me, Arthur. Give me a minute.”

Arthur did. He got up from his desk and went to make a cup of tea, listening to the gears in Morgana’s head turning down the phone line.

“Well? Have you got any ideas?”

“Yes, just admit you’re only attending the group so you can ask out the hot guy. Problem solved.”

“Morgana!”

“Fine. Don’t you have this guy’s number?”

“Not specifically.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m part of their group chat, but I haven’t been given his phone number directly.”

“You have his number, then text him and ask him for advice - he’s the writer.”

“Goodbye, Morgana,” Arthur said, and he hung up on his sister, who was still laughing.

Arthur made his cup of tea and sat down at his computer, cracking his knuckles. Then he started to type. It turned out that the phone conversation with his sister had given him the inspiration he needed, after all.

That night, Arthur waited nervously as the others read out their works. He’d written until the very last minute, and had barely had time to get ready and rush out the door. The hot guy, who’s name was Merlin, looked wonderful. His dark hair was brushed thoughtlessly back from his head in perfectly curling waves and his blue eyes were sparkling with mirth. His friend, the barista form the cafe, was reading her piece about candles which was pretty good.

When it was Arthur’s turn he tried not to show how nervous he was. His story was about a guy who couldn’t write a story to save his life but was attending a writers’ group just to try and pick up a handsome stranger. When faced with the crisis of an assigned prompt just before Christmas, the guy panic-texts the handsome stranger. As the stranger helps the hapless would-be writer, the two hit it off and, at the end of Arthur’s story the guy plucks up the courage to ask the stranger out.

The praise Arthur received for his story was no better or worse than anyone else’s, and Arthur was, absurdly, pleased with himself. He knew it had been terrible, but at least everyone was being nice. Out of everyone else's pieces, of course, Merlin’s was, by far, the best.

Afterwards, as the whole group mingled over cups of tea and homemade ginger biscuits (provided by barista Gwen), Merlin approached Arthur.

“I liked your story,” Merlin said, taking a sip of his coffee. Arthur laughed.

“It was completely terrible!” Arthur insisted, “nothing like yours, which was amazing, by the way. How do you do it?”

“Yours wasn’t rubbish,” Merlin exclaimed, “it wasn’t. I really felt bad for the guy. Imagine joining a writers’ group just to ask out a stranger.”

“Yeah,” Arthur chuckled, feeling more embarrassed than he ever had been before in his entire life, “imagine that.”

“I mean, he really should have just been brave enough to ask the guy out in the coffee shop the first time he saw him, right?”

“Maybe he’s not the kind of guy who can talk to strangers easily,” Arthur replied, with the strong suspicion that Merlin was messing with him.

“Maybe he was afraid to be rejected by a stranger in a coffee shop,” Merlin mused, smiling cheekily. He was definitely messing with Arthur.

“Who’s to say he would have been rejected?” Arthur counted, pretending to be wounded on behalf of his character.

“Ohh,” Merlin laughed, eyebrow raised, “cocky.”

“That was a really good story, Arthur,” Gwen said, coming over to them and putting one hand on Merlin’s arm and one on Arthur’s, “It’s nice to see you participating, finally.”

“Thanks, Gwen. Yours was wonderful.”

“How did it end, though,” Merlin asked.

“How did what end?” Arthur asked.

“Your story. You stopped reading when the main character asked the handsome stranger out on a date, but we never got to hear his answer.”

“That’s right,” Gwen turned her full smile onto Arthur, “are you planning on writing a sequel? Maybe your duo go out on a Christmas date, that would be quite romantic. Oh, excuse me, Lance needs help with the biscuits.”

Gwen bustled off, leaving Merlin and Arthur alone.

“So? How does it end?” Merlin asked, one side of his mouth quirked in a playful smile.

“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted, smiling himself, “how does it end?”

Merlin nodded, biting his lip as if considering, “I think he says yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think he says yes and they leave the group together and go somewhere festively romantic for a drink.”

Arthur set his half-drunk coffee down on the nearest table, and Merlin did the same. They turned, together, and walked out of the room. As they approached the door, Merlin nudged Arthur with his shoulder.

“I can’t believe I had to listen to that completely terrible story because you were too much of a coward to ask me out.”

“Terrible? You said it was good!” Arthur said, feigning insult. He knew fine well it had been terrible. He was _not_ a writer.

“I was only being nice because I was planning to ask you out.”

“Right, then. Message received. I shall cease writing stories immediately.”

“Good, now. Where are we headed? Somewhere Christmassy and romantic, I hope.”

“I think I know a place,” Arthur said, as he and Merlin left the building together, laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A writer with writers' block writing about a writer with writers' block writing about a writer with writers' block. <3


	16. Snowman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and his mother enter a snowman building competition which Arthur is determined that they will win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> established relationship  
> secret relationship  
> Uther is an asshole

Arthur watched Merlin and his mother as they worked in the town square. The snow was coming down heavily now, but that wasn’t going to deter them. The creature they were building out of snow was coming along nicely, and they were really applying themselves to the task despite neither of them having any skill whatsoever.

From across the square came the sound of power tools, and Arthur glowered at the professional snow sculptor his father had hired in for the occasion. Arthur would never understand how his father could consider paying someone to win the competition equal to his actually winning it himself, but that was only one small part of his father that he didn’t understand.

“She looks good,” Arthur said, pausing to talk to Merlin and his mum, who both looked up at him with a smile, “Elsa, right?”

“Oh, hello, Arthur. Good to see you, how are you getting on at university? Second year now, isn't it?”

“Hello, Ms Emrys. Yes, university is going well, thank you. I’m glad to be home, though. How are you doing?”

“We’re well. Twenty looks good on you, I have to say. Did you get our card at your birthday? I got your address from your father, naturally. It's Merlin’s last year at the college, he's getting on fine, and I’m glad to still have him home with me, of course.”

“Mum,” Merlin protested, his cheeks flushing from embarrassment or from the cold. Arthur took a step closer to him.

“Well, I am,” Hunith said, actually taking Merlin’s woolly hat off and ruffling his hair.

“Mum!” Merlin said, grabbing his hat and forcing it back on his head.

“Oh, nevermind," Hunith said, smiling fondly at her son, "Arthur, I was just about to go and get hot cocoa, would you like one?”

“No, really, I’m-”

“I’ll get you one, and I'll be right back. You boys catch up, it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, after all.”

Hunith waved over her shoulder as she meandered off towards the diner on the corner. Merlin fiddled with a bit of snow rather listlessly, not meeting Arthur’s eyes. 

“Your artistic skills are improving, Elsa looks great,” Arthur said, nodding at the snow Elsa and her horrible plastic wig which was the only earthly way anyone would ever be able to tell the great lump of snow was meant to be Elsa.

“Yeah, well, we all know who’s going to win,” Merlin said, nodding across the square at where the snow sculptor was working his magic. Arthur glowered, but turned back to see Merlin’s eyes on him. 

“You’re looking good, too, Ems,” Arthur said, taking another step closer to Merlin. Merlin looked around them both to check whether Arthur’s father was anywhere around. 

“Arthur,” Merlin said, in that tone of voice he had that made Arthur know straight in the core of his soul that the two of them were meant to be together always. Arthur wanted so badly to kiss him right there in the square in front of mutant snowwoman Elsa, the rest of their town, and even his father’s spies which, he knew, were likely everywhere.

But he couldn’t. He and Merlin had decided to wait until Arthur was old enough to collect his trust fund before coming out as a couple. Because, as surprisingly supportive as Arthur’s father was about Arthur’s being gay, there was absolutely no way whatsoever he would approve of Arthur being with someone as common as Merlin. Poor people, to Arthur’s father, were demons sent forth to torment the rich. 

“I’ve missed you, Ems,” Arthur said, loving the way the crimson on Merlin’s cheeks deepened, “I’ve thought about you every moment of every day.”

“Me, too,” Merlin said, his eyes endlessly blue.

“Meet me tonight?”

“Midnight in the town square? I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Here you go, Arthur, a nice hot chocolate to keep you warm. How’s your father, you been home to see him?”

“Thank you, Ms Emrys. Yes, I’ve been home. He’s the same as ever.”

“More chance of the sun changing places with the moon than that man changing his ways,” Hunith said, handing Merlin his cup of hot cocoa.

“There sure is. Listen, thanks for the cocoa, but I’d better get going. Places to be.”

“Well, it was nice to see you, Arthur. Come and see us again before you go back to uni, I’ll cook us some dinner. Yeah?”

“I would love that, Ms Emrys. Merlin, good to see you again,” Arthur said, winking at Merlin as his mother turned to fix Elsa’s wig. 

“Yeah, see you, Arthur,” Merlin said with a smile full of promise.

Arthur was in the square before midnight, rubbing his hands to keep them warm. It was a new moon, and the town was thoroughly dark, a clear sky giving views of the stars. Arthur heard Merlin approaching before he saw him, and watched as the glow of a distant lamplight picked him out in sharp relief. Arthur’s heart clenched at the sight. Merlin was so beautiful it was sometimes painful for Arthur to look at him.

They didn’t speak, they just stepped into each other’s space, arms around shoulders and waists, lips meeting. It felt as though it had been years since they’d been together like this, though it had only been a few weeks since Arthur’s October holidays when he’d paid for Merlin to travel to him for the weekend.

“I’ve missed you,” Arthur said, holding on to Merlin as though someone was trying to take him away. Which, of course, they would, if they knew.

“Only half as much as I’ve missed you,” Merlin said, kissing the edge of Arthur’s jaw. 

“Oh, wait, I want to show you something,” Arthur said, pulling away and leading Merlin carefully across the square in the dark. They reached Merlin and Hunith’s Elsa and Merlin stared in shock.

“That’s first prize! Arthur, we won first prize! How is that even possible?”

“Come and see,” Arthur replied, dragging Merlin across the square to the ruins of the professional ice sculpture which Arthur had quite happily but, of course, quite accidentally destroyed.

“What did you do?” Merlin asked, but he was smiling all over his beautiful face.

“It wasn’t me! Old Man Wilson backed into it with a car,” Arthur explained.

“Arthur, Old Man Wilson’s license was taken years ago, you know that,” Merlin laughed, the welcome sound of it warming Arthur through.

“Well, he definitely shouldn’t have been driving, then, should he have?”

“I love that you did this for me,” Merlin said, squeezing Arthur’s hand.

“You deserved to win,” Arthur said, squeezing back.

“I’m not sure that’s-”

“Fine, then,” Arthur laughed, “my father deserved to  _ not _ win.”

“Well, I’m not going to argue that.”

“Besides, Old Man Wilson deserves some fun, doesn't he? It's Christmas, afterall."

Merlin kissed him then, standing there beside the ruins of the ridiculous snow sculpture in the village square. Then he took Arthur’s hand and the two of them walked together off into the darkness. 


	17. Up on the Rooftop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin hears a noise on the roof and convinces Arthur to investigate.

“Arthur?”

“Merlin? What is it? It’s the middle of the night,” Arthur groaned, covering his eyes with his arm and trying desperately not to wake up.

“There’s a noise coming from the roof,” Merlin whispered, fear in his voice.

“A noise on the roof?” Arthur asked, incredulous.

“Yes, and before you get all sarcastic on me, no, I don’t think it’s Father Christmas!”

Arthur exhaled through his nose, annoyed. He’d been perfectly prepared for that joke and Merlin stealing the punchline was really unfair, especially considering Arthur was still half asleep.

“You couldn’t give me that one, eh? It’s Christmas Eve and you couldn’t give me that one?” Arthur grumbled, getting out of bed, “It was a comedy train-”

“Headed right for you,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes. He was standing in the doorway, a duvet draped over his shoulders like a cloak. His hair was sleep-rumpled and he looked beautiful in the moonlight and in the glow of the fairy lights coming from the tree in the lounge.

“Shall we investigate this noise, then?” Arthur asked, putting his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and leading him up the stairs to their mezzanine office.

Arthur opened the skylight and cautiously peered out into the dark night sky and over the neighbouring rooftops. All was quiet.

"What kind of noise was this meant to have been?" Arthur asked, turning back to look over his shoulder. Merlin stood in shadow, nervously chewing a thumbnail.

"A scritching, scrabbling kind of thumping."

Arthur did not roll his eyes, but it was a struggle. Although Merlin was a nervous sleeper, he wasn't one to tell tales. Besides, they'd had animal control out at the beginning of December to catch the family of adventurous squirrels living in their walls. 

So, showing complete confidence in Merlin, Arthur climbed carefully onto the mezzanine railing and stuck his head and torso through the skylight. He turned slowly, holding tightly to the window frame in case his feet slipped.

There was nothing whatsoever on the roof. Arthur climbed back down. 

"There's nothing there."

Merlin ceased chewing his thumbnail and frowned at Arthur, his blue eyes round and beseeching. 

Sighing, Merlin then headed for the skylight. He handed the duvet off to Arthur, revealing a bare chest and too-big pyjama bottoms riding low on his hips. His skin was palely translucent in the moonlight. Arthur wrapped the duvet around himself, breathing deeply.  _ Aftershave, soap, and Merlin _ .

Merlin opened the skylight and leaned out, doing the same turn that Arthur had just completed. 

His sigh of disappointment was audible from a few feet away. 

"Come back inside," Arthur prompted, putting his hand gently on Merlin’s waist, hoping that small pressure would convince Merlin to climb down from the railing and come back inside.

Merlin did as he was asked, pulling the skylight closed behind him and locking it. He looked embarrassed, confused, and plaintive all at once. 

Arthur swung the duvet over Merlin's shoulders and Merlin hugged it tight. They went back down the stairs and Arthur went straight to bed, flopping onto his back with an expansive sigh. 

"I'm sorry I woke you up, Arthur," Merlin said, clearly apologetic. Arthur looked up at him where he stood in the doorway. He looked sad and sorry and beautiful, "I promise I heard a noise. It was a THUD-screeee-bash-SCRITCH, really."

"I believe you, Merlin. It was probably just a bird and we scared it away."

"Maybe," Merlin looked towards the roof, sceptical. 

"Or, I don't know, maybe it  _ was _ Father Christmas."

"Arthur!" Merlin crossed his arms petulantly and Arthur couldn't help but laugh. 

"I'm sorry. Look, we checked and there was nothing there. Can we just go back to sleep now? It's a long day tomorrow."

"Fine," Merlin sighed, spreading the duvet over the bed with a flourish and climbing underneath it. Merlin turned his back to Arthur and Arthur pulled him close, settling his chin on Merlin's shoulder, arms firm across his bare chest. 

"I really did hear something," Merlin continued, yawning. 

"And I really do believe you. We'll go up tomorrow and have a proper look around, OK?" Arthur kissed Merlin's neck gently. They were quiet then, settling back into sleep. Merlin's body relaxed, his breathing slowing. Arthur felt the muscles in his arms slacken as he succumbed to sleep. 

"Arthur?"

"Yes, love?"

"What if it was Father Christmas?" Merlin whispered, his words tumbling sleepily from his mouth. Arthur's heart felt painfully light in his chest as though it might burst free and float away. There had always been something sweet and pure about Merlin, an innocence and an enthusiasm he tried hard to hide. Every now and then, and only ever with Arthur, that sweetness shone forth. Arthur burrowed in, running his nose along the bottom of Merlin's jaw and kissing him again. Merlin made a soft noise as he sighed into sleep. 

"Maybe it was," Arthur whispered, thinking that, after all, every one of his Christmas wishes has already come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so far behind with these. I haven't given up, I'm just BUSY. <3 xx Cally


	18. Ugly Christmas Jumper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is surprised by Arthur's choice of Christmas jumper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> established relationship
> 
> I know this one deserved much more love and attention, but I'm so busy right now my choices are basically sleep or write and I need my sleep to function. I'm sorry my dears, this is the best I can do. xx cally

“Are you ready to go?” Merlin called down the corridor to where Arthur was finishing getting ready. It was the night of their friends’ Christmas party, their favourite party of the year. The theme this year was Ugly Christmas jumpers, and Merlin had gone way over the top to find the ugliest Christmas jumpers he could possibly find, and he was really excited to show them off.

“Arthur, the taxi is here! We need to go!” Merlin shouted again, dancing on the balls of his feet and readjusting his winter hat.

Arthur appeared at the door to their bedroom, already wearing his hat and coat. His hair was expertly ruffled and he looked absolutely wonderful. Merlin almost wanted to march him back into their bedroom and take his hat, coat, and ugly Christmas jumper back off him. 

However, the taxi was waiting, so Merlin settled for a quick kiss on Arthur’s warm cheek as they bustled out of the flat, locking the door behind them.

0--0

“We’re here, and we brought wine!” Arthur called, lifting the carrier bags so that the bottles clinked together. Merlin shucked off his coat and threw it onto the pile beside the door, but Arthur headed into the flat without bothering.

“Give me your coat,” Merlin said, but Arthur shook his head.

“I’ll keep it on, I’m cold,” Arthur replied, nodding his head towards the kitchen where their friends were gathered.

“Suit yourself,” Merlin smiled, following Arthur into the flat.

0--0

As the night went on, Merlin found he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Arthur. He sought Arthur out, even if he was in the next room, just to watch him for a few moments. Occasionally, perhaps sensing Merlin’s eyes on him, Arthur would look back and smile warmly. A little over a year ago Merlin would have been embarrassed to be caught staring, but ever since he and Arthur had decided to take their friendship to the next level, Merlin didn’t need to bother hiding his affection. Merlin loved Arthur more than he sometimes thought possible, and the past year had been the absolute best of his entire life.

“They’re about to do the toasts,” Arthur said, appearing at Merlin’s side.

“Oh, you’re still wearing your coat,” Merlin frowned, “Did you not like the ugly jumper I chose for you?”

“I loved it, Merlin, I promise. I’m just waiting for my moment,” Arthur kissed Merlin lightly on the corner of his mouth, his hand at Merlin’s back.

“You do love being the centre of attention,” Merlin mused and, handing Arthur a glass of wine, the two of them walked into the lounge to join their friends.

0--0

“I’m thankful for Gwaine’s discovering the artistic merits of skinny jeans,” Percival said, eyeing his partner lustfully from where he sat across the room.

“Keep it clean, boys,” Gwen laughed, shaking her head. She turned to Arthur, “It’s your turn.”

Arthur stood, and cleared his throat as though preparing to speak.

“Take your coat off, eh? Let’s see your ugly jumper!” Gwaine heckled, throwing a catcall in for good measure. Arthur sighed, playing up his annoyance, but he caved to peer pressure at last, shrugging out of his coat to wolf whistles and laughter from all of their friends.

When he straightened up, Merlin was slightly surprised. The ugly Christmas jumper he was wearing was not the one Merlin had picked out for him. Then, after a few long moments, Merlin realised what he was looking at and he stood, slowly, hands falling to his side.

“My toast this year is all about Merlin,” Arthur said, looking embarrassed. Their friends had all gone silent, but Arthur continued, “This year has been the most exciting, most wonderful year of my life, and I genuinely can not imagine spending any of my future years without you. So, instead of a traditional toast, I have a question for you, Merlin.”

“Yes,” Merlin said, cutting Arthur off. Arthur didn’t need to ask his question; it was knitted into his jumper, for everyone to see.

_ Merlin, will you marry me? _

“Yes?” Arthur asked, smiling broadly.

“Yes, of course. Yes. Yes,” Merlin said, as Arthur crossed the room and took him into his arms. They kissed, their friends clapping and jumping up and down and, in Gwen’s case, crying. 

“While this is all very sweet,” Elyan said, interrupting the celebrations, “what I really want to know is where on earth Arthur got that jumper?”

“Oh,” Arthur said, sheepish, “Uh - Merlin’s mum knitted it for me.”

“My mum? So, she knows?”

“Of course she knows, I wanted to make sure she approved of me,” Arthur said, as though this should have been obvious. As if on cue, Arthur’s phone began to ring. Arthur glanced at the screen and answered it, locking eyes with Merlin, “He said yes.”

Merlin’s mum’s scream was audible from a few feet away, and Arthur’s smile was so wide and so beautiful that Merlin kissed him again, unable to stop himself. 

“Married?” Merlin whispered, only loud enough for Arthur to hear. Arthur nodded, his forehead bumping gently against Merlin’s, their noses almost touching. They kissed again, tender and soft until their friends and Merlin’s mum demanded their attention instead.

0--0

“I still don’t think he played fair,” Gwaine grumped, much later in the evening.

“What isn’t fair?” Morgana asked, yawning.

“Arthur’s jumper.”

“Why isn’t it fair?”

“Well, the theme was ugly Christmas jumpers, right? Arthur’s jumper is neither Christmassy nor ugly, and I don’t think that’s fair.”

“Gwaine, love,” Percival said, patting Gwaine’s curls affectionately, “it was marriage proposal by jumper. Arthur deserves the prize.”

“I’m the one who won the prize,” Merlin said, pulling Arthur towards him and kissing his blushing cheek as they headed towards their taxi, hand in hand.


	19. Dressing Up Like Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is the company's sexy Santa. Merlin hates it for *reasons*, but decides the time has come for him to tell Arthur what he really wants for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied homophobia  
> Uther is an asshole  
> Idiots to lovers
> 
> *I apologise for any typos, I've written this on my phone and haven't time for a proper proofread.*

Merlin loathed the annual office Christmas party for many reasons. Not only did it highlight Merlin’s startling inability to fit in at his office, but it did so with added alcohol. On top of that, the most attractive guy in the entire company always dressed up as sexy Santa and Merlin  _ hated _ it.

The guy just sat there, naked except for a pair of red velvet hot pants and a bow tie, while every female in the company sat on his lap and told him what they wanted for Christmas. 

Merlin found the whole thing entirely demeaning. And unfairly distracting. And ridiculously hot.

As one of only five men in the entire company, however, Merlin could understand the reasons behind the sexy Santa routine, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Unfortunately for Merlin, he struggled to remember his moral objections after his third pint and wanted nothing more than to sit on Santa's lap himself. By the time he'd finished his fourth pint, Merlin not only wanted to sit on Santa's lap, he also had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to ask for, too.

0--0

Every year Arthur agreed to be the sexy Santa for one reason and one reason only: so that none of his colleagues would guess that he was gay. It wasn't that Arthur was ashamed, it was just that his half-sister owned the company and their dad owned her. Their father  _ could not _ know the truth about Arthur's sexuality. It just wasn’t an option.

So Arthur played the game. He sat mostly naked in the chair and let every woman in the office paw him obscenely for a few hours every year. At Christmas dinner his half-sister would tell stories about how this woman or that had practically thrown herself at Arthur, their father would have a laugh, and Arthur's secret would remain just that: a secret. 

No one was even the slightest bit suspicious, which meant that Arthur's plan was working. 

It was, therefore, entirely unfair when the most attractive man in the office decided to sit on Santa's lap for the very first time.

0--0

Merlin straightened his tie and put on what he hoped was a bland smile. He was really going to do this. He was going to sit on Santa's lap. The woman ahead of him stood and staggered off to join her friends from accounts payable, the lot of them laughing hysterically as they tottered off.

Then it was Merlin’s turn.

Merlin approached the absolute vision that was Arthur Pendragon in red velvet hot pants and a bowtie, trying to keep his hormones in check. It wouldn't go unnoticed if Merlin had to limp away covering his groin. 

He perched on the edge of Arthur’s lap and put one arm gingerly around Arthur's shoulder, his fingers not at all memorising the feel of Arthur’s bare skin.

Arthur cleared his throat.

"Tell Santa what you'd like for Christmas, then, young man."

Merlin almost laughed-Arthur was affecting a deep, gravelly voice which did not suit him in the slightest. Now was Merlin's chance to decide whether he was going to go through with his plan. Was he going to tell Arthur what he really wanted? 

Why not. It was Christmas, after all.

0--0

Arthur was concentrating with every fibre of his being on not becoming aroused. He had had dreams about this exact scenario. Merlin would climb onto his lap and whisper what he wanted for Christmas and he always wanted Arthur.

Merlin’s fingers barely brushed Arthur’s shoulder and Arthur started reciting the alphabet in reverse silently in his head. He barely managed to ask Merlin what he wanted for Christmas, his voice sounding deep and gravelly and not at all like him.

What happened next effectively ended Arthur’s career as sexy Santa. 

Merlin leaned in, his lips brushing Arthur’s ear, and whispered one word,  _ "you". _

Arthur pulled back, his eyes wide, looking for the joke, but Merlin seemed serious. Not just serious, he looked like Arthur’s answer was very important. Unable to speak, unable to trust himself to do anything else at all, Arthur nodded.

Merlin looked shocked, "Really?"

Arthur nodded again, not even breathing. A smile broke over Merlin’s face then, startling Arthur with its sincerity. Then Merlin leaned in slightly as if going for a kiss.

"Not here," Arthur said, feeling slightly panicked, "meet me at the exit in ten minutes."

Merlin nodded then and got off Arthur's lap. He looked back over his shoulder twice before disappearing into the crowd.

Arthur stood, apologising to the people waiting in the queue, and rushed for his office to change before meeting Merlin.

0--0

Merlin stood outside the doors of the office, his winter coat buttoned to his chin, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It had been eleven minutes since Arthur had told Merlin to meet him here, and Merlin was nervous and scared that Arthur was playing games with him.

However, just as Merlin was about to give up and go home, Arthur appeared. He was still wearing his Santa hat, but was otherwise dressed in normal work attire, pulling his coat closed as he left the building.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Arthur said, smiling sheepishly, "my half-sister was giving me a bollocking for leaving early."

"That's OK. You're not in trouble, I hope."

"I don't care, even if I am. Where to?"

"Will we go for a drink somewhere? Or food? I'm kinda hungry."

"I'm starved."

"Food it is, then.  You choose," Merlin said, and Arthur looked around before picking a direction and walking away. Merlin followed, "So, is this a date, then?" 

"It is if you want it to be," Arthur said, smiling. Merlin nodded and Arthur reached out and took his hand.

"You make a terrible Santa, by the way."

"I wouldn't say I'm  _ terrible _ , you got what you asked for, didn't you?"

Merlin only laughed as the two of them walked together towards the first of their many future dates.

Arthur never played Santa again, and the following Christmas he brought Merlin as his date to his family's Christmas dinner. It did not go well, and both Merlin and Arthur lost their jobs at Morgana's company, but they were together and they were happy, so they didn't mind. After that, Arthur and Merlin hosted their own Christmas dinners for their friends. Arthur’s half-sister eventually broke free from their father, too, and Arthur and Merlin welcomed her back with open arms. They started a new company together and they all lived happily ever after. Except for Arthur’s father. Who did not.


	20. Pine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur brings evergreen boughs into the home to celebrate the winter solstice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> farming au  
> yeah i went there  
> established relationship

Arthur twisted the pine boughs into a long rope, enjoying the easy task and the sticky-sweet smell of the sap as his work-roughened hands wound branches around each other. The house was nearly ready. Arthur had probably gone slightly overboard with the evergreen, but he wanted their small cottage to be as well-decorated as any royal palace.

He had cleaned the entire cottage down to the floor, the fire was burning well, with plenty of dry wood indoors to see them through the night and the following day. The stew was made, by Merlin, of course, and keeping warm beside the fire.

Arthur finished the last of the pine ropes and lay it upon the mantle. Done. All was set. Now all Arthur needed was for Merlin to return from the fields.

As if on cue, Merlin arrived, carrying a bucket full of warm milk, which Arthur took from him and set on the window ledge. He helped Merlin out of his wet jacket and fluffed the snow out of his ink-black hair. His cheeks were pleasantly rosy from the cold, and his eyes were bluer than a clear winter’s sky. Arthur kissed him, slow and warm, his hands at Merlin’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Mmm,” Merlin murmured, nudging Arthur’s chin with his nose, “you smell like a forest.”

Arthur stepped back and gestured, letting Merlin see the results of all of his labour. The smile Merlin bestowed upon him was warm and loving, and he wrapped his arms around Arthur almost protectively. It was strange how quickly their apparent roles had reversed. Arthur had been raised to be the strongest, surest man in any situation. After they had left Camelot, Arthur had had to rely upon Merlin more and more. Arthur could survive the wildest battles, but he hadn’t a clue how to milk a cow or make cheese. Without Merlin, Arthur would have been dead five times over, and that was before you took the magic into account.

“I’ve been busy,” Arthur said, glowing with pride.

“You have, haven’t you,” Merlin said, indulging him. They kissed again, taking their time, losing themselves. Finally, Merlin pulled back, smiling so softly that Arthur’s heart ached, “It’s beautiful, Arthur.”

Outside was a wild mid-winter storm, snow blowing by on a fierce wind. Inside their small cottage, it was comfortable and warm, the air scented with wood smoke and fresh pine. The former crown prince of Camelot and his former manservant dined together in chairs by the fire, their dogs at their feet. Merlin’s eyes kept drifting to the evergreen placed all around the cottage, and every time his eyes spied a new piece they lit up with appreciation and love.

As they ate, they talked about their days and the gossip from the village. They celebrated, in their own quiet way, the shortest day of the year and the inherent joy that could be found when the sun rose just that little bit earlier the next day.

It was nothing at all like the opulent mid-winter days of Arthur’s old life and it was so much the better for it. They had left a lot behind when they had decided to leave Camelot, but together they had gained so many things that it was, undeniably, worth it.


	21. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is glad to be going home for the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> established relationship  
> domestic fluff  
> unapologetic sweetness

The train was packed and Merlin was forced into a window seat, which he didn’t really mind. He could watch the towns and villages pass by. This time of year Merlin played a game with himself where he counted Christmas trees. It was indoor versus outdoor, and indoor always won. There was something incredibly romantic about glimpsing the Christmas decorations of strangers. As a nod to his voyeuristic tendencies, Merlin always insisted on having their Christmas tree in a window so that it could be seen from the street. 

It was late in the evening on December 21st, and Merlin was headed home. Home, where his heart was even though he travelled so far for his work.

Indoor trees were winning by almost fifty points when they began to approach Merlin’s destination. He stood and grabbed his bag, waiting by the exit door. The train station was decorated for Christmas with twin pines which narrowed indoor’s lead, and it was almost completely deserted. There was one man waiting by the ticket kiosk, standing in a dark pea coat and a festive Santa hat. Merlin’s heart leapt at the sight and, even before Merlin could make out any distinguishing features, he knew exactly who was standing there.

“Arthur!” Merlin exclaimed, all but running from the train. Arthur looked up and Merlin’s heart seized almost painfully in his chest - there was no better feeling in the world than coming home to this.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, and he did run. They met as the train began to pull away, Merlin dropping his bag to the station platform and wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck. Arthur held Merlin close, their lips meeting. No matter how much or how little time had passed between their meetings, it was always far, far too long.

“Welcome home,” Arthur said, kissing the skin of Merlin’s neck. Merlin flicked the pom-pom at the end of Arthur’s completely ridiculous Santa hat as Arthur bent to pick up Merlin’s bag. “How long have we got this time?”

Merlin sighed, his heart aching with sadness, “I’m due in Aberdeen in a week’s time.”

“Then we’d better make it one hell of a week,” Arthur said, kissing Merlin again as they left the train station and began the short walk home.


	22. Carols

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is ready for Christmas to be over. He just needs to oversee two more carol services and he'll be done for the year. Luckily, he has Merlin by his side to see him through it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> established relationship  
> Arthur is a vicar
> 
> I don't know, I just love the idea of our boys as quiet, middle-aged husbands living in a country parish. Living quiet, country lives.

Arthur straightened his collar and regarded his reflection in the mirror. He looked as tired as he felt, but it was nearly over. 

“Two more,” Merlin said, wrapping his arms around Arthur from behind. Arthur turned around and sagged into the embrace, letting go of some of his exhaustion. His husband kissed the top of his head and straightened Arthur’s collar for him. The run-up to Christmas was always the most difficult part of Arthur’s job, with carol services, bring and buy sales, decorating the church, and looking after the more vulnerable members of his congregation. 

“Ready?” Arthur asked, steeling himself.

“To sing the same carols we’ve sung a million other times this season? And every year before that? I think I can manage it. You?”

“I’ll probably struggle to remember the words, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

Merlin smiled his warm, encouraging smile, and kissed Arthur again. Arthur straightened up and walked out to greet his congregation as they entered the church.

They greeted their parishioners, the church filling rapidly. The service went quickly, Arthur’s eyes on Merlin as they sang the same carols they’d sung weekly since mid-November, the glint in Merlin’s eyes sustaining him. Merlin purposely flubbed the lyrics to Away in a Manger and Arthur struggled not to laugh and give the game away. Merlin always made up absolutely scandalous alternate lyrics to these carols, and Arthur loved him for it. For that and for many other things.

At the end of the service, Arthur and Merlin walked alone into the churchyard. It was a cold night, not a cloud in the sky, and the moon and stars winked down at them. They stood side-by-side and held hands. Merlin checked his watch and nodded. Arthur took a deep breath and the two of them shouted into the silent night.

“IT’S CHRISTMAS!” 

They shared a brief kiss under the stars before the church began to empty and they wished a merry Christmas to the entire village as they walked off into the darkness.

Returning to the empty church, Arthur sighed heavily. 

“One more,” Merlin said, wrapping his arms around Arthur.

“This is my last year,” Arthur said, and Merlin laughed.

“You say that every year,” Merlin replied, smiling.

“This year I mean it.”

“You don’t,” Merlin said, “Besides if you retire you’ll never learn the words I made up for O Come All Ye Faithful.”

“Oh Lord in heaven but I love you,” Arthur said, kissing his husband, “You know, you could always sing it tomorrow and I could retire before New Years.”

“Not on your life!” Merlin laughed as he and Arthur walked through the church switching off the lights. Another Christmas in the books, and although he was tired, Arthur couldn’t have possibly been happier. 


	23. Sparkle & Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in the kingdom is preparing for a special day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> canon era  
> Merlin is a prince and Arthur is king

The goldsmith worked tirelessly, bent over his bench and squinting his eyes. He had never before produced something so delicate and intricate in so little time. However, when the king approached you and demanded a crown for his soon-to-be husband, you didn’t argue. You got straight to work.

The silversmith worked late into the night, making sure that the shine and fit of the rings were perfect. There could not be a single imperfection upon either ring, or the king and his husband-to-be might be disappointed. It wouldn’t do for the silversmith to disappoint such important customers, even if it meant working two solid days without rest.

The blacksmith hammered the resilient metal, the sound of it so wonderfully familiar. He couldn’t remember a time when he had taken such pride in his work. The king himself had been to see the blacksmith the day before, asking whether the blacksmith could produce a sword, the twin to the king’s own, for the king’s betrothed. It was an honour, the blacksmith said, and he had been working every minute since then. He would not let his king down.

The kitchen staff were running themselves ragged. The last thing they needed directly following the extravagance of the Twelfth Night feast was to prepare a wedding supper, however, the king was rather insistent, and they had no choice but to oblige. The centrepiece would be the wedding cake, and the staff worked tirelessly to ensure that it was fit for not one, but two kings.

Every surface in the palace shined. The servants had worked their fingers to the bone to prepare each and every room for a visitor. The stranger set to marry their King was from a foreign land and it seemed as though his entire kingdom was turning up to witness the union.

Merlin, son of Balinor and prince of a magical kingdom lay comfortably upon Arthur’s bed. In the bright light of a cloudless winter day, his pale skin shone as if he was made of polished stone. Arthur kissed him lazily, his hands tangled in Merlin’s dark curls. 

They were to be married the following day, and Arthur could only hope that everything would be ready in time. Arthur had been afraid that Merlin, being a sorcerer, would put a spell on him and, in a way, Merlin had. Though it was a spell of love, and not one of magic., and both of them were equally affected. 

The sunlight faded to winder darkness, but soon the light from the moon took its place. The moon was one day from full, and in that gentle light, King Pendragon and his future husband promised their love to each other again, and again, until dawn broke slowly over the landscape.

It was their wedding day, and the sun shone brightly over the land. All across their kingdom, the snow glimmered in the light of a brand new day.


	24. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur chooses Christmas Eve to realise he's helplessly in love with his best friend. Will Merlin receive an unexpected present this Christmas?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> friends to lovers  
> just two boys being adorable idiots
> 
> Thank you to each and every one of you who has read any of these little stories and left kudos or words of encouragement. You've helped me survive December, and I appreciate you all very, very much. Here is a final overdoes of fluff to see you through the end of the month. Happy Christmas. xx Cally

Arthur lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the other occupants of the house retiring for the night; quiet laughter and tiptoeing footsteps. Considering the amount of alcohol they had all imbibed, it was amazing that the others were able to remain even the slightest bit quiet.

Still, it wasn’t as though they were keeping Arthur awake, he didn’t feel remotely tired - it had been a rather unexpected day, and Arthur was still reeling. As a child, Arthur had tried to stay awake on Christmas Eve to catch Santa delivering his presents, but this year it wasn’t Santa, the sleigh, or the reindeer that were keeping him awake - it was Merlin.

It had started at breakfast:

_ Arthur meandered into the kitchen, following the happy sounds of friends enjoying themselves and the sweet smell of something baking. When he arrived he realised he was the last to waken. _

_ “Finally!” Morgana said, rolling her eyes as only big sisters could. _

_ “Sleeping beauty,” Percy said around a mouthful of food, and Arthur glared at him. _

_ “Merlin made us pancakes!” Elyan said, positively glowing with happiness. Gwen looked fondly at her brother while Lance looked fondly at her. Ignoring them, Arthur turned to Merlin. _

_ Merlin’s dark hair was still slightly damp from his shower, curling about his head in a rebellious manner that Arthur knew Merlin hated. His cheeks were slightly pink, his blue eyes were alight with joy, and he was smiling brightly. He handed Arthur a large mug of black coffee. _

_ “Pancakes?” Arthur asked, trying to sound excited but, probably, failing. _

_ “Don’t worry,” Merlin said, reaching behind him for a large plate, “I made you toast and bacon.” _

_ “My hero!” Arthur said, taking the plate with gratitude. _

Which had been the precise moment that Arthur realised he was in love with Merlin Emrys. Funny, clever, kind, beautiful Merlin. Merlin, who was one of Arthur’s best and oldest friends. 

It was the toast that had done it. Arthur liked his toast ever so slightly burnt, and sure enough, on top of feeding all of their friends and effectively hosting a party of which he was not the host, Merlin had made sure that Arthur’s toast was perfectly dark and lovely. Arthur had been overcome with a desire to kiss Merlin, the way one might kiss their spouse of many years, a quick peck on the cheek and a squeeze of an arm to express gratitude. Arthur had nearly done it, too. He’d caught himself leaning in and had had to pretend to be reaching for something.

And then Arthur had spent the remainder of the day having a completely ridiculous personal crisis. Every single person Arthur loved in the entire world was in the same building with him - he and his friends rented a house in the country for a week every December so that they could spend the holidays together - however, there was not a single person Arthur would have felt comfortable talking to about this. It was just too complicated.

So now it was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve and Arthur was lying awake, panicking about Merlin and wondering whether there would ever come a time when Merlin might possibly feel the same way as he. Could Merlin ever learn to love Arthur and all of his overbearing faults?

Eventually, Arthur gave up on the idea of sleep entirely and rose from the bed, deciding that a cup of hot tea was exactly what he needed. When Arthur reached the ground floor he saw the glow of Christmas lights coming from the lounge, which was strange because he had very specifically turned those lights off before going to bed.

Feeling as uncertain as a child sneaking downstairs before dawn, Arthur crept into the lounge, eyes peeled for any signs of Father Christmas.

What he found was both better and worse than an old man in a red suit. It was Merlin. Funny, clever, kind, beautiful Merlin. Humming a Carol, nibbling a mince pie, and filling everyone's stockings with gifts.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, stepping into the room. Merlin started and clutched his chest clearly frightened.

"Arthur! You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry," Arthur said, sitting in the chair next to Merlin's, "but what are you doing?"

"Filling up the stockings. Don't look so surprised, I do this every year."

"What?"

"How else do you think they get filled? We're a bit too old for Santa."

"I guess I just never thought about it. You do this every year?"

"Yes," Merlin shrugged, putting a clementine into the toe of a stocking.

"Can I help?" 

"If you want,” Merlin smiled, shrugging again, “That one is Gwaine’s.”

They fell into familiar, comfortable conversation, laughing quietly so as not to wake their friends. Arthur’s heart ached pleasantly, and he kept sneaking glances at Merlin, watching his profile as he smiled, noting the colour of his cheeks varying from pale to slightly pink as Arthur teased him about one thing or another.

“What is it, Arthur? You’re staring at me,” Merlin said, eventually, clearly embarrassed.

“I was just thinking about how amazing you are,” Arthur said, surprised to hear himself uttering the truth.

“Stop!”

“I’m serious. Putting this all together every year, and none of us had any idea. That’s amazing.”

Merlin shook his head, self-deprecating as always. Arthur decided to push past the subject and reached for the last stocking.

“You can’t do that one,” Merlin said, blocking him.

“Why not?”

“It’s yours.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, then he looked around, “Where’s yours?”

“I already did it,” Merlin said, nodding his head towards a stocking already filled and lying on the fireplace hearth.

“You did your own? That’s so-” Arthur began, but stopped himself.

“Sad?” Merlin supplied, and Arthur blushed fiercely.

“That’s not what I meant,” Arthur protested.

“I don’t mind, really. Someone has to do it, and I like it.”

They were quiet for a while as Merlin finished off Arthur's stocking, humming Fairytale of New York as he worked. Meanwhile, Arthur was having an extremely private crisis. He wanted so badly to express to Merlin how much Merlin meant to him, but he was terrified of getting rejected. It wasn’t fair, though, for Merlin to think he meant less to the rest of them than they did to him. He had to do his own stocking, and yet everyone else got to have the magical surprise that Merlin created for them all. It broke Arthur’s heart, and he’d been doing it for years with no one so much as noticing.

Arthur made up his mind in an instant then took his phone out to check the time. 11:59. Almost midnight. Almost Christmas. It was now or never.

“Wait, you missed a gift,” Arthur said, and Merlin looked at him, confused, “For your stocking. You missed something.”

Merlin looked around himself, searching for anything he might have missed. There was nothing. He had done a very thorough job.

“I don’t... What do you mean?”

Arthur held his hand out as though he was giving Merlin something, and Merlin took it, looking confused when he found it empty. Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hand and pulled gently, Merlin and he both standing.

“Arthur, what-” Merlin began, but Arthur kissed him. His heart stopped beating for a few long moments as Merlin froze, then slammed back into life when Merlin began to kiss him back. They were shy and unsure, gentle and nervous, and it was completely wonderful. 

When Merlin pulled back, Arthur felt so nervous he could hardly think, but Merlin was smiling.

“What’s this, then?” Merlin asked, smiling crookedly, his eyes gleaming in the lights from the tree.

“You made me toast,” Arthur said, as though in explanation. When Merlin just kept looking at him, Arthur continued, “I realised this morning that I might possibly be in love with you.”

“Wow,” Merlin said, still smiling, “I’m not really sure what to say to that. Except maybe that it’s about bloody time.”

“What?” Arthur asked, taking a step back. Merlin pulled him close, laughing, and kissed him again. Less shy this time, and a lot less gentle.

“I’ve been in love with you for fucking ages, Arthur.”

“What?” Arthur almost shouted, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was afraid of ruining what we have,” Merlin admitted, “I’m not as brave as you.”

“That is the last time you insult yourself in my presence,” Arthur commanded, and he kissed Merlin again, the two of them laughing.

Merlin pulled away with one hand at his mouth, his whole body shaking with laughter. Arthur watched him, uncertain of what was happening.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, finally, unable to stand the suspense.

“You love me!” Merlin said, absolutely giddy.

“I do,” Arthur replied, completely serious.

“And I love you!” Merlin giggled.

“I don’t understand why, but apparently yes.”

Merlin was unable to stop laughing and it was contagious. Soon they were both laughing and kissing each other, stepping together and apart again in something that resembled a dance. It was wonderful and Arthur was almost stupidly happy.

“If we don’t get at least some sleep, Santa will never come,” Arthur eventually said.

“I  _ am _ Santa, Arthur, I thought I explained,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, I know, but that was a clever ploy to get you into bed with me,” Arthur admitted.

“Blimey, you’re not wasting any time, are you?”

“Not any more,” Arthur shook his head, again completely serious.

“I still have work to do,” Merlin said, sounding rather disappointed.

“I’ll help,” Arthur offered, and Merlin smiled. 

Together they arranged presents around the tree and put the stockings in a row on the hearth. Arthur swept away the ashes of their fire and relaid some wood for the morning. The last thing they did was share the last of Santa’s mince pies and the dram of whiskey Gwaine insisted on setting out.

As they left the room, Arthur glanced behind them at the lounge which looked the absolute picture of Christmas. Arthur’s heart swelled at the effort Merlin had put in, not only this year but every one they had ever shared and Arthur was overcome with fondness. Merlin was, truly, magical, and, Arthur had always been insanely proud to call Merlin his best friend. Now, this Christmas, Arthur had something else to be thankful for.

Merlin glanced up at him in the darkness of the corridor, his long lashes shadowing his bright blue eyes. Arthur pushed him up against the wall and kissed him with agonising slowness.

“Happy Christmas,” Arthur finally whispered.

“Best present ever,” Merlin smiled, his eyes dancing and he pulled Arthur with him down the corridor.


	25. Bonus - Boxing Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur are alone on Boxing Day after a busy Christmas season. How ever will they fill their time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Established relationship  
> Rating: mature, maybe? Slightly NSFW anyway.
> 
> I wrote this little fic yesterday and shared it on tumblr but I wanted to make sure anyone who has followed these fics gets to read it, too. xx Cally <3

Arthur ran his tongue lazily up the back of Merlin’s thigh, his fingers gently massaging the soft skin at the base of Merlin's spine. Merlin was propped up on his elbows, mobile phone in hand.

"Stop it!" Merlin laughed, his chest rumbling. Knowing Merlin was only half serious, Arthur ignored him, biting gently. 

"Arthur!" Merlin breathed, looking over his shoulder at Arthur, sweetly perturbed, "You know yourself that if I don't text her back she'll end up phoning me!"

While Arthur loved his mother-in-law, but he knew that Merlin was telling the truth. She was prone to worry, and not afraid to go totally over the top if she believed either Arthur or Merlin was in any danger. Still, he wanted Merlin to himself, so he inched further down the bed and nipped at the backs of Merlin’s knees. Merlin uttered a pleased groan and dropped his head to the mattress, arms still upraised, phone in hand.

As Merlin struggled to complete and send the text message, Arthur bit Merlin’s heel, his hands fastened around Merlin’s thighs. He knew he was being a complete devil, but would anyone blame him? The run-up to Christmas had been insanely busy, and their family gatherings the day before had worn them both out completely. Now that it was Boxing Day, Arthur was making up for lost time.

Finally, Merlin put the phone down. He flipped gently over onto his back and reached down, pulling Arthur up to lie beside him, Arthur taking his time and kissing each inch on they way there.

Merlin purred contentedly as Arthur settled beside him, his fingers playing lazily with Arthur’s chest hair.

"What did she want?" Arthur asked, capturing one of Merlin's earlobes between his teeth.

"Just checking we weren't too hungover," Merlin whispered, arching his neck beautifully. For a few moments Arthur was too distracted by his husband's body to form coherent thoughts, the room filled with sighs and small moans rather than conversation.

"You told her we were having a lazy day?" Arthur managed, eventually.

"Mmm-hmm," Merlin exhaled, turning onto his side and draping a leg over Arthur’s thighs. Arthur’s hands busied themselves with coaxing pleasurable sounds from his husband, Merlin's head thrown back, his eyelids fluttering.

"Spending the day in our pyjamas in front of the telly?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Arthur turned onto his side as well, catching sight of their brand-new festive PJs in a heap by the bedroom door. He and Merlin’s legs curled together as they moved and settled, their bodies comfortable after years of this dance. Merlin mouthed at Arthur’s shoulder, his warm tongue dampening Arthur’s skin before Merlin pulled away, blowing gently.

"I told her we'd probably be dozing all afternoon, and not to be surprised if neither of us answered her texts right away," Merlin looked up at Arthur, his beautifully blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Oh, did you now?" Arthur smiled crookedly then placed a line of small kisses against the bottom of his husband's stubbled jaw.

Merlin pressed his lips against Arthur’s ear and whispered very quietly, "then I turned my phone off."

He pulled back and levelled at look at Arthur that still made Arthur’s knees weak, even after all the years they'd been together.

"Oh, did you now?" Arthur repeated. Merlin nodded, feigning a coy look. Arthur smiled playfully and flopped onto his back, wriggling back into the mattress as though trying to get comfortable. "Thats good, I could use a nap, as well."

Merlin laughed and floofed his pillow gently into Arthur’s smirking face before climbing over to sit astride him. Arthur gripped Merlin’s hips, his thumbs stretched to rub against the skin below Merlin's belly button. Merlin leaned down and kissed him, his hands gentle at the side of Arthur’s face. He looked beautiful and serene, but there was a familiar playfulness in his eyes that made Arthur almost breathless with anticipation.

It was Boxing Day, after all. They had nothing whatsoever to do for the rest of the entire day, and many, many things to do, indeed, with all of that free time.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'd love to know what you thought!


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